You Know How It Ends, Everybody Dies
by TheWalk
Summary: A lapse of memory, or a mental defence? She doesn't know he's gone even though she witnessed it. The war has begun and Hermione's friends don't know what to do or say to help her. But someone is sending her short letters containing learning lessons...
1. Memory Is A Diary

**You know how it Ends, Everybody Dies…**

**Chapter One: Memory Is a Diary**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Nope. Also semi-inspired by the movie How to Deal.

* * *

Hermione woke with a throbbing pain in her head. Her fingers smoothly crawled up into her hair and massaged her scalp. Behind her shut eyes bright lights flashed angrily at her. She groaned and sat up carefully opening her eyes. The starkness of her room assaulted her and she lay back down, her hands over her face. The pain in her head was causing her to feel ill. She groaned and turned to her side raising her knees to her stomach.

Those fingers now moved from her scalp to right above her eyebrows, lightly pressing. What was this headache, and so early in the morning too? Hermione had not drank last night, her blood pressure would have no reason to be low, she wasn't having her monthly…it was just an inconvenient headache to wake her early in the morning.

There was another peculiar feeling surrounding her body like a heavy cloak. She didn't want to move, because if she moved she felt that would forget something important that she needed to remember. She had that feeling when one dreamt something extraordinary, but could not remember it. Attempting to sit up again, Hermione was far more successful this time around. She swung her feet out of bed and glanced out her window, wishing she had shut the blinds the night before. The sky was a bright blue, but the tree top by her widow was blowing violently, the small leaf buds clinging for survival. Slowly she rose and shuffled to the bathroom to pee, grabbing furniture to keep her-self upright on the way.

While brushing her teeth Hermione had a weird sensation run through her hand and into her head; it felt like a rough tug. She looked up into her mirror. A disgruntled looking girl stared back at her; hair wild and cheeks pale. Something was lingering right before her brain, just out of her reach but she could almost sense the coming thought. There was something she needed to remember…

She shook her head and rinsed her mouth. The pain in her head was causing her to be absentminded. Hermione placed her toothbrush next to Oliver's, in the cup by the sink, and sighed deeply. She opened the medicine cabinet and took two Tylenol with the hope that they would work. The house was cleared of headache potions; she had thrown them all away last week as most had expired. Hermione's sunrise bleariness cleared and yesterday came rushing back.

Oliver had left yesterday; sat on a muggle plane to fly to America and rally support for the war against the death eaters. Perhaps that was why she had woken with this strange feeling.

* * *

_"You're leaving?" Hermione whispered looking down at her feet, trying to hide her tears from him. The dust in the bright sunlight flew before her eyes like the tiny white specks in a black and white movie._

_Oliver gently lifted her face with his fingers, as Hermione gazed into his warm brown eyes she felt even closer to tears than before, "I'm doing this for everyone Hermione. We need all of the support we can get, and America may be willing to supply that support." he explained sweetly as his fingers traced her jaw line, Hermione melted into his touch._

_Oliver was trying to memorize her face as best he could. There was no knowing when he would return and it was killing him. But for Hermione's sake he had to appear casual and calm. Hermione was beside herself already, if he showed any trace of misery she would have broken down completely._

_People were walking past them in the airport wheeling their suitcases behind them, talking animatedly, all were excited for their trips. Hermione felt none of their joy, only worry and loneliness crept upon her. They had just moved in together, after three years of dating, things were moving ahead at full speed. Hermione loved Oliver with all her heart, it was impossible to imagine life without him by her side; especially now since she had been looking forward to living with him._

_"Do you know when you'll be back?" she asked placing her hands on Oliver's chest; the coarseness of his wool sweater grazed her palms causing them to itch. Hermione bit her lip and willed her voice to not tremble or heaven forbid, break._

_"I'm not sure Hermione, it could be anywhere from six months to…who knows?" he said with a frown._

_Hermione nodded tearfully, "I'm sorry, I'm really trying to not cry. I should be seeing you off with a smile, not with tears. I'm being horribly selfish, I just want you to stay," she whispered looking around at the passing people "But you should be excited!" she added with a trembling sigh "Going to America, new culture, fun times, a chance to do something for the Order…" she hiccupped looking out the large glass wall to her right and blinking away her tears feverishly. Planes were rolling around, getting ready and heading to their terminals. The sky was a bright blue and the grass just beginning to green in the fields out far._

_"I am a little excited, I've never been on a muggle plane" Oliver grinned "This will be the first time I've flown without a broom. It's so weird."_

_"Oh, it's not too exciting really. You always get stuck between two annoying people when you travel alone. You can't get up to move around much. Can't even see the damn movie most times and if you can see it then your headphones don't work," her voice began to break with the strain of held tears "Then the people beside you will want to talk to you… It's a nine hour flight and you start to get annoyed and you want to shoot yourself in the head before you spend another miserable second…" Hermione ranted on in desperation. Her voice had reached a breaking pitch and her hand movements have become frantic._

_"Hermione" Oliver said with a lopsided smile cutting her off, "Don't worry. I'll live. The moment I land I will owl you right away and tell you that I have survived."_

_"I wish you could appeariateback once in a while or even portkey" Hermione whispered looking up at him. Oliver's sandy hair was always windswept and his eyes crinkled happily. Why couldn't she smile like that? Why was there this horrible feeling of dread that plagued her relentlessly?_

_"You know how dangerous it is to appeariate" Oliver said with a laugh "I could seriously splinch myself. And I can't use a portkey until the U.S Wizarding Parliament allows it. Do you want me dead?"_

_"Of course not! And…I know; I don't want you to endanger yourself. I wish you could have been sent to Canada, they're so much nicer there" she said with a moan._

_"Have you been?" Oliver asked._

_"Yes, I went to Quebec. It felt like exactly like England. The streets, the people, the ministry is so much more similar to ours. You'd have a much easier job there and you could have come home earlier. The U.S will not be swayed so easily, especially since they have no connections with our Ministry…" Hermione said sadly._

_"Oh Hermione-"_

_"- Anyway I'll be fine so long as you write me. And…maybe you could visit me if you don't come home before Christmas?" Hermione asked hopefully._

_Oliver grabbed her tightly around the waist and pulled her to him. Hermione placed her cheek against his chest and felt his scratchy sweater once again; she would not feel it for a long time to come. All of her hidden feelings began to bubble over and splutter out of her lips. "I really don't want you to leave" she wept desperately clutching his shirt. She couldn't say that she was worried he wouldn't come back alive. But the fear was there, in her chest._

_"I don't want to leave you either Hermione," he said softly, "but this is how things go... I love you, you know that. I will come back to you, no matter what" he promised. Oliver pulled back and reached into his pocket. "I have something for you." he said pulling out a box._

_It was a square red velvet box. Hermione's heart leapt with anticipation and she stepped away from him, placing her hands over her mouth. "What is it?" she asked wiping her tears away._

_Oliver smiled at how quickly a girl's mood could change with the expectation of a present. He watched her eyes brighten and a faint smile trace her lips. This was how he wanted to remember Hermione, with a bright smile. "Here." he said handing it to her._

_Hermione took the box and opened it. A beautiful white gold ring sat inside, an oval cut sapphire framed with little round diamonds sat in the middle of the band. "Merlin…" Hermione whispered her lips cracking into an insanely wide smile. Oliver took the box from her hands and took the ring out. He then grabbed her left hand and placed the beautiful ring on her ring finger._

_"I will be back Hermione." he repeated seriously._

_Hermione smiled and nodded. "I love you" she whispered hugging him tightly around the waist._

_Oliver held her just as tightly "Kiss me before I leave Hermione"._

_There was a clicking noise._

* * *

Hermione frowned and leaned against the bathroom counter as she looked at the ring on her finger. What happened next? She couldn't really remember. She must have been so shocked that it was all a blur. Oliver must have got on the plane and left. And now he was already in America somewhere.

The ring twinkled at her. Had he proposed? Oliver had never said the words but he had placed the ring in the proper place. What did it mean?

She pushed off the counter and walked back to her room to get dressed. Hermione couldn't just stop life now that Oliver had left. He had made her promise to not pine away. He had said that if her marks suffered he would not visit at all. Hermione knew he had been teasing, but the message was important. She grabbed her uniform and began to dress. Hermione had class in two hours.

* * *

"Hermione? How are you?" asked a concerned Harry Potter. His long hair was a mess falling in his eyes, pushed behind his ears where it was convenient and in some areas sticking up straight. He pushed back his bangs to peer at Hermione anxiously with those bright green eyes. There was an odd chiseled edge to his features, discomfort, worry, uncertainty, which was it? Having watched her walk into class that morning he hadn't known what to think. Most of the class had watched her carefully, uncertainly, had it even been the real Hermione Granger?

Hermione looked up from her book with a puckered brow, "I'm fine Harry, why do you ask?" She put a bookmark into her page and shut the book placing it down on the table.

"I didn't expect you to come to school today" he said honestly. . Hermione didn't like his tone, there was amazement but it was underlined with concern. Did he expect her to have stayed at home and sobbed? Did he think she was so weak? She had gone along with him for every damn adventure, mission, and task; never once had she stayed back. This could not have been a question of her strength.

"Uh" Hermione said shortly, doing no more than acknowledging him. Harry did not respond to her grunt. He continued to stare at her in true bewilderment. Hermione sighed and leaned over to him across the table, "Listen, I know Oliver left, but he told me there was no reason to act like a little child and sulk. He'll be back soon enough" Hermione said confidently. Hell, she felt no such confidence, but she didn't need to parade her worry about Oliver. It was her concern and she didn't want to bother everyone with it.

Harry's mouth opened into a small 'o'. He looked around the empty library and then turned back to Hermione with wrinkled brows, "Hermione, what happened yesterday at the airport?" he asked carefully, something was not right…

"What? You were there Harry. You saw what happened. I said goodbye to Oliver, he got on that plane and left me behind" she said sadly.

"Right" Harry whispered forlornly, "You're exactly right" he said looking back to his assignment.

* * *

Ginny stood at the sink and washed the dishes left after a giant Weasley dinner. Piles of dirty dishes surrounded her. Her beautiful apartment looked like a pigsty after all of the family had left. She couldn't go to bed until it was all cleaned up; it was a complex that derived from living with a herd of men. But tonight's dinner had been a gloomy and morbid affair. Lacking all of the usual talk and excitement, people came dressed in black with cute memories in their pockets. Hermione's absence had been noticeable. Ginny understood why Hermione had turned her down…that was, until Harry had just said those words a few seconds ago. "What do you mean?" she asked Harry with a confused smile.

"I mean exactly what I said. Hermione has totally blocked it out of her head. Yesterday at the airport; she fabricated her own memories. She's lying to herself Ginny. How am I supposed to tell her the truth?" Harry said biting his bottom lip.

"Blocked it?" Ginny asked skeptically. She didn't understand what Harry was going on about, perhaps it was because she wasn't really listening; admittedly, she was humoring him a little but pretending to listen.

"Yeah, I asked her what happened and she said Oliver got on that plane. Ginny, you were there…you saw what really happened" Harry said softly. He appeared to be deep in thought, a crinkle between his brows. Ginny hated this look; it always aroused imminent fear in her.

She turned off the water and wiped her shaky hands on her apron, really hearing Harry for the first time. "Oh Merlin" she whispered, "I went over to see her this morning, but I guess she had already left for school…I had assumed she had gone to her parents for a break or to grieve…I had no idea" Ginny said her eyes flicking about the living room in unease "So she really doesn't remember what happened yesterday? You know she doesn't remember?"

Harry nodded. He felt lost and helpless, how was he supposed to help his best friend when he was so weak? Hermione, rational Hermione, was being so irrational and Harry could not deal with this fact.

"Oh Harry" Ginny said tearfully. She ripped off her apron throwing it in the sink and began to pace the kitchen frantically. "Does everyone know that she doesn't remember?" she asked stopping suddenly and looking at him. She was still attempting to grasp what was really going on. How could Hermione not remember what had happened? Was it psychological? Was it due to her fall? But this was Hermione! She was the most mentally stable person Ginny knew, there was no way Hermione would stray from the truth, no matter how horrible it may be.

"Most people know but I can't tell everyone. Because we need to tell her Ginny! We have to tell Hermione, we can't have her going around not knowing!" Harry said in frustration "What about when the funeral comes around?" Harry asked with a quake in his voice.

Ginny collapsed against the counter; she placed her head on the cool marble and began to cry. She felt Harry behind her, his gentle hands on her back, "Oh Gin, what do we do…?" he asked.

"I don't want to tell her Harry…there must be a reason why her mind repressed this memory. Perhaps the shock of realizing what really happened will send her over the edge. Maybe her brain is trying to protect her from self-destructing. Can we afford to play with the possibility of hurting her more with the truth? Perhaps we should let it go. Maybe she knows. Maybe she's just being Hermione and avoiding the confrontation. He's dead. Oliver is dead, and she saw it. There's no way she couldn't know" Ginny said starting to confuse and contradict herself.

"She'll find out eventually Ginny. Someone will say something and it will jog that memory. It will come back to haunt her eventually. She can't live in her chosen fantasies, there's no time for that. Not when we are so close to war" Harry said reasonably.

"What now?" Ginny said.

"Do you think we should take her to St. Mungos'?" Harry asked.

"We'd need one hell of an excuse to get her to go" Ginny replied wretchedly.

They lapsed into thoughtful silence.

* * *

_There was a clicking. Harry Potter heard it first. Like the running of shoes on a polished floor, just slightly louder. He didn't understand what it was. Looking around Harry noticed a few other people searching for the sound of the noise._

_Then he realized what it was._

_It wasn't clicking at all._

_It was the sound of distant apparating._

_"Shit" he whispered looking out the large window, he couldn't see anything though._

_"Harry, what's wrong?" Ginny asked wiping her tears away. She had been watching the sweet goodbye between Oliver and Hermione. She would miss Oliver too; he was such a nice man and so good for Hermione._

_"Gin, get your wand out" Harry said tersely his eyes flicking about._

_"Why?" she asked in confusion turning to her left where Ron had already pulled out his own wand. "We're in a muggle airport" she said with a frown._

_The giant windows that were the walls of the departure block shattered without warning._

* * *

Hermione sighed and threw down the bag onto her floor; It hit the hardwood with a thud, the latch coming undone and her books sliding out. Today had been such an odd day. In all of her classes people stared at her as though she had a horn coming from her forehead. But none of them dared say anything to her. Harry himself had even been acting oddly.

She walked into her living room pulling off her jacket and letting it fall to the floor. She hardly cared about staying neat. Her head was pounding and her heart was already aching with Oliver's absence. All Hermione wanted to do was to finish her last month of school and to start working. She was almost twenty; it was about time she began to work as a healer.

Oliver would be so proud when she wrote to him about graduation. He must have arrived by now in America, given the time difference it would have been morning there. Hermione wondered what Oliver would be doing, was he already hard at work, or was he going to take a day to collect himself and get over his jetlag? She groaned and lay down on the couch spreading her tight muscles. It had been a long day for her; assignments due, dealing with other people and her teachers had taken a lot out of her, and then Ginny had wanted her to come to dinner, Hermione would not have made it through the meal. She had just arrived home now anyway.

As she heard a pecking at her window, Hermione lurched off the couch and ran over to her living room window. She stared wide eyed at the pale owl on her windowsill. It was not Hedwig but Hermione knew no other white owl. She wondered if it was safe to open her window. These days one never knew what a possible attack was, and Hermione had to be doubly cautious. She opened the window slightly and allowed the owl to squeeze through. Hermione removed the parchment from the owl all the while trying to place who else had a white bird of her friends. The moment she removed the letter the owl squeezed back through the gap of her window and flew away. Hermione shut the window.

She took the parchment to her couch where she sat down and stared at it. Finally she resolved to open it. Hermione tore at the unfamiliar seal on the front and unfolded the parchment.

_The memory represents to us not what we choose but what it pleases._

_-Michel Eyquem de Montaigne_

Hermione turned the paper over. There was nothing on the other side. That was all it said…who would write such a thing to her? She smiled and folded the paper back up. Oliver had sent this to her. He must have.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review. If you do I always feel more inspired to write. If you don't review, I'll just tease you forever and give you no updates. I would especially like reviews for the first chapter. Just tell me if it's good so far, and if you think the plot sucks then give me reason why. Thanks!

P.S. Thanks much to my beta Something Unreal


	2. Where Is It?

**Chapter Two: WHERE IS IT?**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

I'd like to give a shoutout to my wonderful beta Something Unreal. Thanks for putting up with me through all of my horrid grammatical issues.

* * *

"I'm afraid I don't understand" Ginny said with a lopsided smile as she stared at the anxious healer across from her. The dim lighting in the small office left features and moods blurred, but the tension was very present at the moment. Ginny felt lightheaded, confused, perchance on the edge of uncontrolled laugher.

The healer sighed and rearranged her grim face before repeating it. "We cannot find Oliver Wood's deceased body" she said as kindly as her cold professional demeanour would allow.

Ginny shook her head and laughed a slight laugh. Harry sat beside her there with a gaping mouth, drowning in a sea of confusion "What do you mean?" he asked shaking his head.

The healer began to look annoyed and even more anxious; thinking she perhaps had a couple of lunatics in her office. "Wood's body is gone." she said very slowly, with striking pronunciation.

"Don't talk to me like I am an idiot, I realize his body is gone. What I don't understand is how! We brought it here, to your hospital, your morgue; did he just get up and walk away?" Harry asked furiously, leaning towards the short haired healer from across the desk. The air crackled.

"Perhaps the body has just been misplaced" the healer suggested lamely.

Ginny laughed frantically now, her eyes flying about the room in bewilderment. "You misplaced a body? I can't believe that. Where is the body? Are you telling me-" she sobered greatly at that moment and placed her hands threateningly on the oak desk, leaning as close as she could to the healer "- that someone took the body?"

"I wouldn't t-think anybody would t-take the body" the healer stuttered, clearly intimidated by Ginny's proximity.

"THEN WHERE IS HE!" Ginny screamed loudly, apparently her rational spoke violence would solve matters quicker.

Harry pulled her down into her seat swiftly, wanting to avoid a fight.

The healer looked from one to the other, sensing that she had gotten herself into more than she could handle alone. "Listen you two, I don't know everything. All I know is that the body was placed there two days ago, and when we opened the chamber this morning, it was gone" she said simply raising her hands in a non threatening gesture "There have been other odd things occurring at St. Mungo's with missing bodies, this would not be the first".

"They took it" Harry said inaudibly, looking to Ginny.

Ginny nodded sharply, anger still coursing through her, the desire to tear the healer apart ever apparent on her face. "Thank you for notifying us" Ginny said coolly as she stood from her chair, "Please feel free to reach us if there is any news concerning the situation"

She and Harry left the office.

* * *

"It's gone. Oh Merlin, it's gone" Ginny whispered tearfully as she walked circled in her kitchen. Harry watched her from the counter with a tugging frown on his face.

"What now?" he asked, truly at a loss for what to do.

"What now? I have no idea" Ginny said gripping her hair. Harry hated to see her so worried, Ginny was the reincarnation of Molly, and in some matters this did not appeal to him.

"They took it, the death eaters took it. We know that much" Harry said with a sigh. "But why did they take it? What does Oliver Wood's body mean to them?" Harry asked himself.

Ginny spun around and walked out of the kitchen, unable to handle the situation. Harry watched her go wretchedly. What was he suppose to say to Hermione? How was he supposed to convince her that Oliver was dead if he couldn't prove it? At least he didn't have to worry about the funeral.

* * *

Hermione was walking around her apartment and frowning. Something wasn't right. It was a vague and cool sensation that left her body in goose bumps and her mind aching for…something. That nagging feeling had not released her yet, she was forgetting something. Was it an appointment, was she supposed to have dinner with someone, an Order meeting? None of these things seemed to be it.

It was the giant absence of all things Oliver that must have been causing the emptiness and unease in her. She couldn't smell his favorite cologne anywhere, his closets were empty but for a few articles of clothing, none of his sports magazines littered the coffee table, his socks were not thrown by the door…

She sighed and walked out of the living room and onto her terrace. Hermione truly felt unwell, it was a feeling of nausea, the vomiting that would never come. She was worrying herself sick. Why hadn't Oliver sent her a real reply yet? Hermione was desperate to know how he was doing, if he was settled, what he would do first. Without reply, it was difficult to feel easy.

The people walked the small street before her-_their_- townhouse. The boutiques on the other side of the lane had drawn down their curtains and shut their doors to keep out the wild heat. Children walked with small quick steps following their parents and licking their hands clean of melting ice-cream. Lovers walked hand in hand, heads down, but slowly. Hermione would have loved to be outside with somebody. But everyone she knew was busy, Harry and Ginny had sometime or other to do this morning, Ron seemed as though he was avoiding her, in fact all of the Weasley's seemed this way, even Neville had something important to do. That made today a downright rotten day, even her bloody Prophet had not arrived that morning.

A glint of shining white caught her eye on the street below. Draco Malfoy was walking home from school, as he did every day, walking past her house with his leather book bag slouching on his shoulder, his top three buttons left undone and his tie loosely draped over his shoulders. He glanced up and around, and as his eyes revolved, they locked with hers. He smiled and waved, Hermione waved back, smiling slightly. She motioned for him to come over to her.

Malfoy appeared slightly surprised, but not terribly so. They had been on decent terms for the past few years, and were colleagues who not only tolerated each other, but respected as well. Hermione saw Malfoy walk past her house almost every day, but besides that they rarely ever ran into each other. He looked left and right and walked across the street to her gate. Hermione left her terrace and headed downstairs to open the door for him. Hermione unlocked her front door and opened it for him. Malfoy smiled shyly and remained on her doorstep, looking past her into the house.

"What can I do for you?" he asked lightly.

"Join me for some iced tea" Hermione said stepping back from the door to allow him inside.

"Nice place you have here" Draco said as he placed down his book bag by the table in her entrance hall.

"Thank you" Granger replied.

They walked up her white stairs to the level she actually lived on and entered the living room. It was large and spacious, painted in crisp white and mint greens. Her windows were large and open allowing the sun, and the heavy heat entrance. "Sit" she said motioning to her white couch. Draco looked at it and frowned, everything was so neat and clean, it was frightening. He sat down slowly and looked at her awkwardly, unsure if he should smile or not.

"I'll make us some tea" Granger smiled as she turned on her heel and walked to her kitchen. Draco's eyes followed her keenly. She was wearing a blue summer dress, bare feet, and hair high on her head. There was an absent minded aura around her, but this did not surprise him. Draco barely trusted himself around Granger, he was afraid his tongue would let loose and he would say something terribly stupid.

Her fiancé was dead, and she didn't know. How was he supposed to act? Avoiding bringing up Wood would probably be a good start. Draco looked at his hands lying on his lap and suddenly felt sick. He had witnessed it all. In a moment Wood was dead on the ground along with all of his fellow travelers. Granger was in his arms out cold.

It had been nothing more than a coincidence that he had been getting on that same flight for a business trip to America for Malfoy Enterprises. It wasn't even a trip he had planned to take, his father had had requested that Draco fill in for him. Of course, his father would have wanted him in the crossfire. Draco was well aware his father was simply looking for an easy way to put his son in a coma for the next ten years. Get him out of the way and saddle up to Voldemort without an obstacle.

And so Draco had been there, walking directly past Wood and Granger when all of the windows exploded…

He sighed and looked back up; Granger was coming out of the kitchen with a tray in her hands. Two tall glasses, a pitcher of tea, and what appeared to be a plate of homemade cookies crammed onto the surface. He didn't feel right being here. In fact it felt quite perverse, seeing that he knew everything, and she didn't.

Granger smiled brightly at him, her lightly tanned skin catching the light and her strands of hair falling down over her neck. She looked happy, pleased, he hated it. She was ignorant, and it was wrong of him to be in her company.

"Here you are" she smiled sitting down across from him and placing a glass in front of him and then filling it to the brim with iced tea. "Have a cookie, I made them earlier myself" she insisted pushing the plate towards him. Draco avoided her eyes and took a cookie, shoving it into his mouth to keep from speaking.

"So, how are things?" she asked casually.

"Well…good. You know, still taking auror classes, still trying to avoid getting sucked into the family business" he said with a straight face.

Hermione's eyebrows rose politely. "Oh, well, I'll keep my fingers crossed for you" she said with a slight laugh. Malfoy looked very uncomfortable sitting across from her. He was avoiding her gaze with vigour and replying very curtly. Hermione liked to imagine she knew Malfoy very well, and as far as she knew this was very out of character for him. Malfoy was not the type to avoid a gaze or mumble. Something must have been on his mind.

"Alright, well, lets get onto the topic that interests me" Hermione said with a bright smile. Malfoy looked up in surprise, his pink lips in a slight 'o'. "Are there any girls in your life?" Hermione asked leaning forward.

Malfoy coughed loudly and grabbed his ice tea, he took and sip and looked out her terrace window "Nice view" he said in a strained voice.

Hermione laughed loudly, "Oh come on, don't avoid the question. Skirting around answers doesn't suit you Malfoy" she said calculatingly. He chuckled nervously, but appeared to calm.

"Honestly, I haven't really had any news in that department of my life. Not such a great multitasker, haven't had the time" he said stringing his words monotonously. Hermione frowned; it may have just been her, but she felt as though he really was avoiding something.

She looked at him carefully as he gazed out her window. A flicker of an image flashed behind her eyes. Hermione frowned even deeper. Another image flickered, too fast for her to grasp. She 

sat up straight and cleared her throat, attempting to clear her head at the same moment. She was becoming distracted again.

"Are you alright?" Malfoy asked peering at her from behind his pale lashes.

"Yeah…fine" Hermione whispered.

"Sure?"

"No"

This seemed to surprise him for he sat straight in an instant, as though readying himself to flee should the need arise. "No?" he questioned oddly, his voice doing peculiar things.

"No" Hermione repeated softly "I've been having this odd feeling" she began honestly, and then paused. Did she need to burden him with her silly worries? He had asked…but he had not asked for a deep personal discussion.

"You can tell me" he said as though hurt by her sudden pause.

"Well it's nothing" Hermione said quickly, trying to make light of the topic "I've just been really absent minded since Oliver left. And something feels off. I feel as though I'm forgetting something really important. I'm afraid I'll miss a meeting or a dinner being like this" she chuckled dryly taking a sip of her tea.

"I'm sure it's nothing" Malfoy replied evenly. His voice had returned to its usual cool tone and he appeared to have relaxed slightly, still…Hermione had not been expecting such a quick and straightforward reply. "Everyone has that feeling once in a while, and I'm sure it's not a big deal. It will pass in a few days and you'll resume normally. So don't fret too much" he said blowing it off.

Draco Malfoy felt as though he was about to break. His beautiful chiseled frame was wrought with cracks already, and the look Granger was giving him was leaving him teetering on an edge of uncertainty.

"Yeah, I guess so" she agreed.

He sighed a breath of relief, saved from the fall. He wanted nothing more than to escape from her company now. There were just too many things wrong with this situation. Why had he not turned down her offer of tea? It would have been so simply to politely decline. But he had wanted to see how she was, to see her state. It was very hard to believe she couldn't remember something that had occurred but two days ago.

The whole situation was surreal and terrifying. He had taken the Prophet that had been in her mailbox that morning; Potter had missed that small detail. And it was a good thing he had done so for on the front page there was a giant picture of Wood and his colleagues. An article about what had occurred at the airport. The ministry had just released the information to the press. 

Draco thought it would have been better kept silent still. Granger was bound to find out soon and what then?

He had not given it much thought, mostly because he could not comprehend the _'what then'_. Draco was sure that Potter was thinking about it nonstop. He looked at Granger; she had gone off into a reverie again. Her chin in her palm, her eyes fixed on a picture on the mantle. It was a picture of her and Wood. Draco watched her brows crease, as though she was trying to remember a particularly difficult formula, and then release just as quickly.

She turned to him with a bright smile, "I'm sorry. Did you say something? I'm afraid I just lost myself right there"

"No, it's quite alright. Must be the heat" Draco said quickly "Thank you very much for the tea and the cookies, but I'm afraid I must make my leave" he said standing.

"Oh" Granger said standing with him, "So soon?" she asked.

"Yes, I have schoolwork" he lied quickly. He knew Granger would not argue with the need to finish schoolwork.

"But of course" she said quickly, "I'll walk you out" she said picking up the tray and quickly walking to the kitchen. Draco walked to the stairs and waited for her.

They walked down the steps in silence. Draco grabbed his bag and stood by the door, Granger opened it for him. "Thanks again" he said.

"No problem" she smiled "Do stop by on your own. I'm home by this time, and I really have nothing to do" she laughed sadly.

"Of course" he said stepping out her door back into the thick air "See you Granger" he said with a small wave as he walked down her steps and out the gate.

Hermione watched him go with pursed lips. It was as though he could hardly wait to be out of her company. And if he enjoyed it so little why had he bothered to accept her invitation at all? Maybe she was just being paranoid and reading into things too much. It was likely that Malfoy was just weird on his own account and that it had nothing to do with her. She shut the door and locked it.

* * *

Harry groaned and laid his head on the table. Ron was motionless. There was a depressing silence squeezing the people in Harry's house like a python. It was overwhelming. "While Hermione is a problem, there is a larger problem here" Mr. Weasley said slowly looking about the table. There were nods and a few mumbles. "We need to figure out what the death eaters are doing! Clearly they are attempting to sabotage our efforts for cooperation, they don't want this war to get outside of England, and they want the situation controlled; But, what about the bodies? What does that have to do with anything? What does it even mean? Many people saw those poor wizards die, so what does it mean to them to steal the bodies?" he asked.

"Could be for their army of the undead?" Ron suggested.

"Nah, Voldemort would just use a graveyard, he'd never be able to collect so many bodies in this manner" said Bill.

"Yeah, but maybe these bodies are his special members, his generals or something" Ron said looking around the table in desperation, dying to have someone latch to his idea.

"It is possible. He could use them against people. I mean, how many of your could stand killing someone you know? Dead or not?" Harry asked.

People nodded and murmured again.

"Possibilities, all of them, but still…I don't really believe it" Mr. Weasley said with a frown "There's something else that we're not seeing, I'm sure of it."

* * *

Hermione found herself alone on her couch that evening. She was sure she hadn't moved in hours, but it felt as though no time had passed at all. Her brain was humming wildly, working without her knowledge or control. Her windows were still open and a cool breeze blew through her living room.

Silence engulfed her. She felt as though she was on the edge of something important. There was something lingering right before her…if she didn't move, it might come closer…

The feeling disappeared. Hermione groaned loudly and stood from the couch. She was beginning to get frustrated with herself. If the feeling was fleeting, why would it not pass already? It was so draining and tiring to feel as though you were thinking all of the time. Hermione had woken this morning dead tired. It had felt as though she had barely slept an hour, even though she had managed a good ten. It was a miracle she had managed to survive a day of school in her state.

Maybe she was becoming ill. Hermione decided that going to bed earlier may have been a good idea; if indeed she was becoming ill then her body needed as much rest as possible in order to recuperate. Hermione didn't want to risk any illness now.

She walked to her windows and shut them tightly. Looking out into the night sky she saw no dark shape flying towards her with a letter. There was no news from Oliver tonight. She frowned and turned to walk to her room. It was not only the worry that caused the frown on her face, but it was disheartening to receive no reply. Even though Hermione knew Oliver was busy…even though, she was selfish, she wanted a piece of him all the time.

Hermione's doorbell rang, she jumped in her skin. Who would be calling on her so late at night? Harry, Ron or Ginny would have just apparated into her house, who would be ringing her bell? A muggle perhaps?

Hermione carefully walked downstairs, wand in hand. She crept up to the door and checked her peep hole, there was no one there. Her walk was empty, her gate closed; perhaps muggle children were simply playing a prank? Hermione turned from the door with a tired sigh. A shuffle and clatter sounded behind her. Her letter box had opened and shut, a single piece of parchment falling through and sliding across her parquet floor. Hermione cautiously picked up the folded parchment and stepped back to her door.

She unlocked it and opened it wide. Again there was no one anywhere nearby. But there was a faint, lingering smell that resembled cologne; she realized it was the letter. Hermione opened it there at her door, already knowing what she would find inside.

"_The existence of forgetting has never been proved: we only know that some things do not come to our mind when we want them to"_

_Friedrich Nietzsche_


	3. Too True to be Good

**Chapter Three: Too True to be Good**

**A/N:** I don't own Harry Potter. Also, I'm speculating here about inferi. I couldn't actually find a lot of information on the subject, so I'm making up my own. You have been warned.

**

* * *

**

It was too chilly for the end of August. Hermione stood from the couch for the third time in an hour and went to stoke the fire. She poked it gently, and threw another piece of wood into the dying flames. The fire eagerly licked the wood before latching on and engulfing it. It burned brightly, but created no warmth in her freezing apartment. It was just an illusion of warmness to make her feel sheltered. The gas bills were so expensive lately, she hated to think how large the numbers would be if she turned on the furnace in midsummer.

Outside the sky was clouded over completely, and a steady rain was falling, making it seem later in the day than it was. The weather had been miserable all day long. She had expected the skies to clear by the time she'd finished her grocery shopping that morning, but when Hermione left the farmers market that afternoon, the rain had poured even harder. Hermione sat back down on the couch, but she couldn't bring herself to continue reading her text book. For some reason, she found the idea of wandless curses utterly boring. And it bothered her that she did. Hermione was not a listless girl. She didn't lie around wishing she had something to do, or somewhere to be; she always had something to do, and somewhere to be.

The clock chimed five times. At five-thirty she needed to be at the Weasley's for their regular Sunday night dinner. She didn't exactly feel like rushing over there. As odd as it was for her, Hermione wanted nothing more than to lie on her couch and stare at the ceiling silently. But she knew if she didn't show up Harry would come knocking on her door. Because Hermione Granger had never _not_ shown up before, as a matter of fact, she was always five minutes early.

What was Oliver doing now? It had been a full week since he'd left. Luckily Oliver had left on Sunday afternoon, so Hermione had school to keep her busy all week. But yesterday had been terribly difficult for her. A long Saturday that she could barely believe even now was finally over. The whole day had stretched before her, the hours, and minutes getting longer and longer when she had no school and friends to distract her. And now, her first weekend without Oliver was almost at an end. Hermione couldn't yet decide if these weekends would get easier or more difficult with time. All she wanted was a clear owl, just a short little "I arrived alive; don't put an ad in the obituary yet". But perhaps it wasn't all that possible to get an owl here. And yet, Hermione had received those ridiculous little passages from Oliver almost immediately after he left.

It was something that puzzled her greatly. Just how had those notes arrived so quickly after all? Oliver could always have apparated them to London's owl post and had them sent from there... it wasn't important, but incredibly dangerous all the same. Maybe he was now attempting to send Purdy all the way across the Atlantic. It seemed impossible for that little owl to make such a rough journey. Either way, Hermione was going to have to accept that communication was no longer a simple thing.

To attempt apparition from so far was a death-wish for most. Even if Hermione was sure enough of such a thing, Oliver's apparition skills were far below hers, any small mistake and he could splice himself seriously. The floo lines were still perilous and unsecured, even just to talk and not travel. Sending any owls filled with Order content was not viable considering how many deatheaters had proven themselves able to intercept such messages. Only if poor Purdy could fly all the way from America here would Hermione be able to actually know anything. And that pitiable owl would be flying for a good two weeks.

Hermione groaned and pulled herself off the couch. She needed to get dressed and get to the Weasley's. If she didn't show up it would only give them more reason to throw her a pity party. And a houseful of '_sorry'_ Weasley's was a different kind of experience.

* * *

"Come in Hermione" Molly Weasley said with a tight smile as she opened the front door. Maybe it was just Hermione's imagination, but if possible, Mrs. Weasley had aged rapidly, again. Her hair seemed lank, and her eyes were swollen, just as when she had spent many months last year crying over Ron, Harry, and her absence.

"Thanks" Hermione said smiling back just as tersely before stepping over the threshold. The Weasley house was silent, it was absolutely bizarre. Hermione could barely make out a murmuring dialogue occurring in the kitchen as she pulled off her shoes and threw her coat on the rack. She followed Molly, who ran ahead of her into the kitchen. The moment before she swung the door open all of the talking came to an obviously sudden halt. Frowning, Hermione pushed the door open and entered. "Hello" she said smiling at the _full_ gathering. Everyone, absolutely everyone was in the kitchen. All of the Weasley's were sitting at the long wooden table aside from Charlie who was still in Romania. Even Tonks, who Hermione had not seen since Lupin's funeral and Shacklebolt were in the kitchen. Hermione cleared her throat and repeated herself, "Hello, _all_"

"Hello" Harry said loudly and cheerfully as he waved her over to the empty seat between him and Ron.

"Hello Hermione" Tonks said gently, but her eyes were still looking at the table in front of her. Tonks was still wearing black, and her hair was even black to match. Hermione could vaguely recall a time when bets were placed on the ludicrous colours of Tonk's hair.

"Is this business or pleasure?" Hermione whispered circumspectly to Harry as she sat down.

"All pleasure" Harry replied widening his eyes with a poor attempt at innocence. Hermione was not fooled. But she wouldn't push the matter yet; she'd wait until they were alone.

"I'm sorry Molly, but I must leave" Kingsley said standing swiftly, his long robes falling gracefully to the floor. Hermione noticed the aloofness in his face. Kingsley was generally a calm man, but now he was grave. Instead of the peaceful expression that usually graced his face, his features were all pulled downward, making him look haggard.

"I have to leave too, I have to get back to Teddy" Tonks said standing. Hermione opened her mouth, meaning to ask how Tonks and Teddy were, but she bit back her words. It was obvious how they were. Lupin had been killed after their last battle only a few months ago, in the battle where they had managed to seriously injure Voldemort and his following. Since then, deatheater activity had all but died. Hermione knew they were all out there, Voldemort too, biding their time before their next attack. Because while the order had won, they had won the battle, but not the war, and were just as wiped due to it. They had lost so many good people in that battle. Hermione's own mother had been one, a casualty in the crossfire after they had all been attacked at McGonagall's retirement party. Her eyes dropped to the table. It was hard to remember everyone they had lost, and the important person she had lost. Her father had all but completely withdrawn from her life, moving to France to be with her grandparents after the funeral.

"We'll see you next week" Molly said as she led them out of the burrow.

Hermione raised her eyes slowly to realize that everyone was looking back at her. What was going on?

"Alright, let's eat!" Molly said returning to the kitchen and grabbing the ladle off the counter.

* * *

"Hermione, talk" Harry whispered to her afterwards while everyone was sitting around in the living room quietly talking and drinking coffee. Hermione felt as though nobody would notice even if she went up in flames. Everyone was so absorbed in their own minds. She stood slowly, placing her cup down on an end table and followed Harry out of the room.

"Come. Quickly" He said heading down the hall.

"Are you practicing your monosyllabic stoicism?" Hermione said with a wry smile as she followed him up the rickety stairs.

"Hmm" he exhaled.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were under the imperius, you're absolutely zombie like" Hermione muttered bitterly, but Harry didn't reply.

"Where's Ron?" she asked again and louder this time, somewhat confused once she realized that he was not following them.

"He's already waiting in the room" Harry said curtly.

"Right" Hermione mumbled under her breath. How bad could this have been if she, Ron and Harry were talking alone? It had been almost a full year since the three of them had attempted to find and destroy the horcruxes on their own. And not since then had there been private discussions, once they had returned home only semi triumphant, the order had been included in every action. And their private scheming had come to a complete end.

Harry opened the door to Ron's room and Hermione followed him in. The room was still exactly the same, completely decked in black and orange stripes and Cannons memorabilia; Hermione was unsure why she had been expecting it to be any different. Ron sat cross-legged on his bed, Harry took the chair, and Hermione seated herself on a pillow of Dragomir Gorgovic, who protested softly, on the floor. She looked from one anxious face to the other, and slowly her own anxiety grew, with it returned her headache. She just wanted the bad news over with so that she could process it in her systematic manner; it was the waiting that she found most unpleasant.

The looks on their faces were as though they'd both drank the 'drink of despair'. Ron kept licking his lips feverishly, and Harry's eyes darted around the room as though he wasn't actually there. Hermione looked down at her hands and exhaled slowly.

It must have been bad. Very bad.

"So" Hermione said softly, nudging them to begin.

"Voldemort has turned to necromancy" Ron blurted out in his usual blundering manner.

Hermione blinked exactly three times before turning her head to Harry, "So..."

"What he said" Harry muttered shaking his head in Ron's direction.

"He's raising the dead?" Hermione frowned "Again?" she added, trying to keep the cynical smile off her face.

"Yes" Harry said solemnly.

It was baffling how serious the two of them looked. Hermione had been expecting something a little more apocalyptic shock wise. Why were the two of them so dreary about the issue? It wasn't exactly a cause for crackers and wine, but still...

"What's new about that?" Hermione grimaced; it was the branch of magic that was truly terrifying in one aspect. It was one thing to die, or feel physical pain at the hands of another human, but the idea of dead wizards and muggles was repulsive, on many levels. Especially seeing that a dead wizard was infinitely more immortal than a live one. "He's done it a million times before" she added with a sigh. At the present moment, this threat didn't exactly seem like the end all to Hermione. It was to a certain extent something to be expected, "He had a complete army of inferi for the first wizard war, there's a lot of writing on the issue. And it should only be expected that he'd use the same tactic this time around"

"The technique is a little _different_ this time" Harry said with a loud swallow.

"How?" Hermione asked in perplexity as she pulled her fingers through her hair. "You have the resurrection stone on your hand" she pointed, "Not that it would help him in this sense anyway, since there is only one specific way to do such a thing. It's a specific spell to wake inferi; any other method would not create the same type of being"

"You misunderstand" Ron said finally decided to put his two cents in, "The method for overall conquering is different, not the method for bringing them back"

"How so?" Hermione asked shifting on the pillow, earning another annoyed groan from Dragomir.

Harry and Ron exchanged heavy looks.

"I need a little more to go on then what you two have given me" she muttered crossing her arms "Just tell me what you know already, if you need my help or viewpoint on the issue. I mean, come on, what could you two know that you wouldn't tell me? I've seen and done all of the same things, no point in censoring the information"

"He's going to kill, and then bring back people close to us in an attempt to infiltrate the order" Harry surmised in one breath.

"But, we already know who's dead" Ron said quickly, "So, not to worry about it too much" he waved his hands and scoffed, as though the issue wasn't real. What made it all the more important to Hermione was Ron's attempt to play it down. Ron never played down anything, when Ron was around; the little thing was suddenly a giant threat...

Hermione frowned at him "Where did you get this information?" she asked.

"We found out that some order casualties bodies were missing from the morgue, and we hypothesised" Harry said spinning Hermione a concealed truth, and hoping that she bought it.

"Alright" she said distrustfully. Then Hermione sat silent for five full minutes while Harry and Ron watched her in stillness, waiting for her reply on pins and needles.

"I think you two are missing the point" she finally said, breaking the silence.

"What?" Ron asked licking his lips again.

"We may know whose dead right now. But consider the amount of order members on solo or small group missions. You lose contact for a day, an hour even seconds...you don't know how quickly Voldemort can do his work. He can do it fast enough for us to not notice the magic. I've never create an inferius, so I don't know how long it takes. But knowing Voldemort's army was larger than most of the wizarding population...And by the time you see the change in the person, it could well be too late. Someone as powerful as Voldemort would be able to do a clean job of raising inferi. He could make them fresh and lifelike. After all, all inferi theoretically start as fresh as the moment they are raised. And with time disintegrate...so he could bewitch them to act a specific way, in the way of that person, and he could complete his tasks before the disintegration began. For all I know, either one of you could be an inferi" Hermione said with a raised brow.

"You don't mean that?" Ron said softly.

"Not the part about you being inferi, I know you two well enough, but everything else, absolutely accurate" Hermione concluded with a nod.

Harry and Ron looked at each other with a deep sense of wretchedness, and premonition. How could they have expected anything else? Of course Hermione would hit the nail right on the head.


	4. Fright Night

Chapter Four: Fright Night

**A/N:** I don't own any of the characters that rightfully belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

Hermione just couldn't fall asleep. Her mind kept spinning in circles, considering all of the possibilities she had heard today, wondering whom Voldemort was specifically targeting. She had tried her hardest to remain calculated and sceptical in Harry and Ron's presence. But the idea that someone very close to her could be killed and then used as a puppet was terrifying, morbid, evil in a word. It made her skin crawl and her breath shallow; her palms became wet at the thought. All the more reason for her to get in contact with Oliver as soon as possible. While it seemed unlikely that Voldemort had apparated in the plane to do his work, for even a wizard as accomplished in magic as him would have hard time apparating to a high flying moving object, Hermione wasn't about to feel better about it until she knew for certain.

It had been clear to her just how difficult these months would be, but now with an even greater impending threat, Hermione felt very much alone without Oliver. She turned the ring on her finger and tried to wonder what he was doing right now. Had he made contact with the Canadian Ministry of Magic? Were they all in hiding, had he raised sympathy for the situation in Britain? Did he know about the rising threat in Britain and Europe? How to know?

With great regret she realized her current situation. There was no use in stewing about questions she had no answers to. Especially when tomorrow there was school waiting for her, armed with two tests and a written assignment. There was always something more urgent than another; there were always priorities in this life. And Hermione would just have to put aside the things she could not resolve and focus on what she could help. At least, she would try.

* * *

Why was it that defensive spells didn't appeal to her today? Hermione tried to focus her eyes on Professor Andric, the tall, reedy, almost vampric man at the front of the lecture hall explaining how to do a shield spell without flourishing ones wand. And yet, though she saw him, Hermione felt as though she wasn't totally absorbing what was being said. The whole room was in a bit of a humming daze, the warm sunshine filtering through the windows cast a soft Gaussian function on everything. Hermione looked around her, most of the students seemed to be in the same altered state as her, and even Harry sitting a few seats to her left was staring at his parchment, his quill hand not moving, just creating a large black blot. Hermione looked to her right and two rows down where Malfoy sat, his head resting on his hand and his eyes half closed. It seemed that defensive spells was a mandatory course for all masters students. And yet Malfoy still managed to look incredibly less impressed than the rest of the class. That was a true talent. Hermione wondered whether she should approach Malfoy after class and make some small talk. Maybe it would be nice to have another person who could distract her from her worries. Oliver's blurred face swam through her mind, his voice distorted in her head; Hermione couldn't even think clearly when she had slept so little, maybe a little nap in class...no, that was practically a sin.

Hermione tried to focus again; she slapped her cheeks gently and cleared her throat. The Professor was now explaining some incantation in detail, but Hermione still couldn't hear him, she didn't even hear Fitz who was clearly snoring beside her. Hermione was beginning to get drowsy, as though she had drank a particularly strong sleep potion. Her eyes began to close...

There was screaming, and an explosion, and then loud laughter and cheers in her dream, it sounded as wild as the Quidditch world cup. There were no pictures though, Hermione was dreaming in the dark. There was nothing but black behind her eyes. Then everything went very silent, and Hermione could only hear her own thoughts. If she didn't open her eyes now, she knew that meant more studying later tonight, but her eyelids felt very heavy, and it felt so nice and warm in her sleep.

There was a loud crack right next to her.

She jerked awake. Hermione's head spun around in every direction madly, she felt as though someone had thrown a pail of cold water over her. Suddenly Hermione was fully alert, goosebumps rising on her skin, and the hair on her arms on end. Around her students were either sleeping on their desks or gazing dreamily at their text books. Hermione found hers to be wet with spit, how could she have fallen asleep?

She continued to gaze around the room, something was very different. It took her a minute but Hermione began to realize that there were empty seats in the lecture hall...hadn't it been a full class this morning? After all they had a practical test at the end of class.

Fitz who had been sitting to her left was gone, as well as another girl. There was only one person between her and Harry now. Had they left halfway through class, or had Hermione imagined them to be there when they weren't? No, Fitz had been there, right next to her. Perhaps he had gone to the lavatory.

But around the room there were a few people also curiously looking around, and there were more empty desks than there could have possibly been minutes earlier. The professor was sitting at his desk looking over his notes, or sleeping...Hermione could not see whether his eyes were open, her body did not release, but remained tense.

"Hermione" Harry whispered to her.

She locked eyes with him, "Harry..."

"Are there..." he stopped talking abruptly, suddenly uncertain. His green eyes flickered around the room, cementing Hermione's concern.

"People missing?" Hermione finished grimacing.

Harry went pale, Hermione suddenly felt sick. It wasn't her imagination.

At the front of the class the professor started with a jerk "Right" he said clearing his throat, "Has everybody completed reading section 12.A? Should we move on to the practical test?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she gulped air loudly. Her ears felt blocked, as though the pressure in the room had suddenly changed. She looked in Malfoy's direction. He seemed to be staring at his watch, and he kept poking it with his wand. Hermione looked around the room for a clock, but there wasn't one. "Harry, the time?" she hissed tapping her wrist. The person between them stared with a brain-dead gaze straight ahead, not noticing their conversation at all.

Harry pulled his pocket watch out of his cloak and frowned, he shook it, "It's ten to twelve" he frowned. Fifty minutes had passed since the start of class. But that didn't seem possible. Class had barely begun...how had fifty minutes passed so quickly. Hermione had barely closed her eyes for a moment. Hermione stood and pushed past the person between them to sit next to Harry.

"Did you fall asleep?" she asked him seriously, but quietly, so as to not risk being overheard.

Harry looked taken aback. "I don't think so" he muttered, "I just closed my eyes for a moment, I was daydreaming I think. I could hear my thoughts, and other people taking, and something fell somewhere, but...I couldn't have slept" he said shaking his head in disbelief, "it's not possible".

"So what happened, and where did everyone go...and why are we still here?" Hermione asked looking around.

"I don't know..."Harry said distractedly, his hands running through his hair, as they often did when he was nervous and without a plan.

* * *

Hermione's arm was weaved tightly through Harry's as they left the lecture hall in the crowd of perplexed students, also wondering about the disappearance of their friends. Hermione held tight to Harry, an irrational fear beginning to eat at her. She didn't want to be separated under any circumstance. "We need to talk to someone" Hermione said as they walked outside into the blinding sun. The rest of the campus buzzed on happily, completely unaware that anything had occurred.

"Who?" Harry frowned "we hardly have any evidence but our say so, and I don't know if that counts for anything. We could have just dreamt it all"

"Yes, but then so did the whole class, people disappeared Harry" Hermione insisted.

"Do you think..."

"It's _him_? I do" Hermione agreed with a solemn nod.

Harry felt very ill. How had this happened? And _what_ happened? How could the deatheaters have managed to get onto school grounds and take people without alerting any of the school's security features? It was true, the academy was no Hogwarts, nowhere near as safe, but it also had dark magic protection.

"I don't think they used dark magic" Hermione said, echoing his thoughts. "It would have alerted everyone... but the strength of the charm, to put a hall of two hundred students to sleep, as well as their professor, it's amazingly strong. Not simple magic" Hermione mused in a mixture of awe and disgust.

"If we're talking about him, there's never a case of simple magic" Harry agreed.

"And...you reckon the people gone are..."

"I don't know" Harry admitted "But, I have to confess I'm more scared about the fact that we're still here"

Hermione nodded. She was horrified about the fact that she was left totally unharmed. That worried her more than anything else. Was there something even worse waiting for them when they were let go on a laugh? How easy it would have been to just take Harry.

"Potter, Granger!"

They spun around to see Malfoy running towards him, his books dangerously spilling out of his bag. He looked rather jumpy, and Hermione could guess why.

"Tell me I'm not crazy" he whispered creasing his brow and looking around anxiously.

"No" Harry and Hermione said in unison.

"So, what exactly happened? And why does Professor Andric not remember a shred of it?" he asked in frustration.

"The professor doesn't even remember falling asleep?" Hermione said incredulously, her eyebrows rose up to her hairline.

"Nothing" Malfoy went on "He says he assigned us our reading and waited for half an hour until we were done...I stupidly asked him if he noticed anyone missing. But he just said that people always dropped the course before the first test, and he expected there to only be half of us by the final. Not the answer I had expected"

Harry looked at Hermione pointedly.

"You, come with us" Hermione said hooking her other arm around Malfoy's.

Malfoy laughed nervously "You're not going to curse me and interrogate me are you?" Hermione frowned, it wasn't very funny "I thought maybe you two knew what was going on" he said, not with disappointment, but melancholy.

Hermione gripped Malfoy's arm even tighter to prevent him from weaselling away, "Should we go to the burrow?" she asked Harry.

"No, let's go to your place. It's best to not alert everyone until we're sure of what we think happened"

"Can we have some tea once we arrive?" Malfoy asked.

* * *

The three of them sat in Hermione's living room, holding Draco's requested tea and waiting as patiently as possible for Ron and Ginny to show up. Hermione hoped they wouldn't be too alarmed by seeing her patronus show up at the burrow, with little information but a request that they come.

"And what happens if we determine that this is actually what happened?" Malfoy asked "We can't just stop going to school, and living on, regardless of the threat. So what does this actually mean? This new thing they're doing. What does it mean for the order, and for everyone else?"

"I don't know. That's a lot of questions you've asked" Harry said rubbing his eyes "But we need to figure out firstly how the deatheaters made it into the academy undetected"

Malfoy gazed at Harry as though the later were a stupid ape. "Honestly Potter, it's beyond simple for them to get inside undetected. You can apparate onto the bloody grounds. There are so many students that it wouldn't be so difficult to cast a disillusion, or invisibility spell, or even to change their features with a charm. They could easily blend in. Besides we don't even know whether it was one or hundreds of deatheaters. If it was someone powerful enough to cast that charm to put us to sleep, it may have been but one person. And, not dark magic involved there, so no reason to set off an alarm"

"How did they get into the class though" Harry frowned, stuck on the one hole.

"They were one of us" Hermione muttered, embarrassed by the simplicity. "It's a class of two hundred, you don't know every single person there, do you Harry? They walked in beside us, however many of them there were. They walked past the dark magic detector, it detected nothing. Concealments are not a principle dark magic, and not alterable. The real question is how did something like this not happen earlier? An attack on the academy would be a beautiful way for Voldemort to destroy the majority of able bodied wizards in the vicinity"

"I agree with that" Malfoy sighed "Considering how poor the protection on the campus is it's really surprising that this didn't occur before. But I suppose most of the wizarding community doesn't consider deatheaters to be tactful, and so they expect a sudden and obvious attack. Not a silent removal of people."

"But isn't that how Voldemort works anyway?" Harry asked. "People silently disappearing, nobody realizing for months"

"Yes, that is how Voldemort works, but I doubt this was Voldemort's work himself. Remember he is the incarnation of evil, his body is an act of dark magic, if he showed up anywhere on campus, all alarms would be set off...this was deatheaters, and they worked in the same way as when..." Malfoy went silent. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"As when what?" she asked in confusion.

"As before" he said with a nonchalant shrug.

Hermione nodded. "Well, this time, we noticed, but I think they don't mind that. There's nothing we can do. If we cannot prove these people are dead, we cannot disprove they're alive. The deatheaters left us a puzzle. I wonder whether they'll try to do it again. Perhaps this isn't limited to Britain, is it possible that they're targeting other places, other schools?"

"Like Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, that school in Serbia or the ones in America?" Harry suggested, listing off all of the schools he could think of.

"I doubt it" Malfoy said shaking his head. "Too much, too far. Voldemort's looking to strike close and quick. If he managed to get a hold on this island, it won't take much more to control the world. But, that doesn't mean he can't have his cronies working for him in other countries. I firmly believe that deatheaters are situated everywhere. Keeping a close eye on the alliances our ministry holds. If America decides to fight on our side, Voldemort will know before we do"

"That's frightening" Hermione whispered.

"This whole life is a bit frightening" Malfoy added sourly.

"Do you think that Ron and Ginny will be here soon?" Hermione asked looking at the clock. It was already three in the afternoon, a full hour after her patronus had returned from the burrow.

"They might have not been home, perhaps they didn't see it" Harry suggested nervously, but it sounded as though he didn't believe it.

"Are you going to tell your order pals?" Malfoy asked, setting his cup down on the coffee table. Careful to place it on one of Hermione's flower coasters so as not to leave a circular mark on the table.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other "Eventually" Harry said.

"You think they won't believe you?" Malfoy asked a little too casually, as though he expected such an outcome.

"Something like that" Hermione nodded "But the situation is so grave I don't think we can wait to tell them. At least seventy people disappeared. That's the most in over a year"

Malfoy looked out the window, and Harry didn't respond. They seemed just as alarmed as Hermione was about the large number. "Yeah, that's a lot" Malfoy replied tersely.

"I wish Oliver would get back to me. I'd feel better know if they were making any progress in America" Hermione sighed rubbing her eyes.

"I'm sure they are" Malfoy said mechanically.

"Well, you seem optimistic" Hermione replied scathingly. "You could at least pretend you believe it"

Malfoy just swallowed and looked away. Hermione scoffed and looked at the clock. What was keeping Ron and Ginny? "_Expecto Patronum_" she muttered, and her silver otter appeared before her. "Find Ron and Ginny wherever they are, tell them it's very urgent. Just get them here" she ordered it. The otter turned into a sliver of light and flew out her window.

"I understand Potter's girlfriend being invited, but just what do you think Weasley can contribute to this think-tank party?" Malfoy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione didn't want to say anything, but there wasn't really anything Ron could contribute. Ron was just a part of the team, and occasionally he managed to help the situation. It was just the way things were, but she wasn't about to defend this to Malfoy. "More than you" she replied coolly.

"So why am I here again?" he asked in amusement, no trace of annoyance in his voice.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Why had they brought him along? Even if she couldn't completely defend her reasoning, it still seemed smarted to have him here than anywhere else. Malfoy was in just as much danger as the rest of them. A blood traitor with a deatheater as a father intent on getting rid of him didn't have much going for him in a world under Voldemort's thumb. "Do you want to live?" Hermione asked him evenly.

"Would be nice" he agreed.

"Then you play on our side" Harry stated, a trace of authority in his voice.

"That is so comforting, really good casualty track record you lot have" Malfoy muttered.


	5. A Spotless Mind

**Chapter Five: A Spotless Mind**

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. And the quote is of course from Alexander Pope.

* * *

Hermione gently pushed open the oak doors and slipped inside. She felt out of place suddenly, like an intruder in somebody else's home. It had been a long time since she'd last been here. There were no students in the hall, on account of it being too early this Saturday morning, even for breakfast. No professors or ghosts roaming around either. Still, Hermione couldn't remember a Saturday morning so void of life in all her years at Hogwarts. She couldn't even gauge how many students were left at the school, and how many were gone permanently.

Hermione had waited tolerantly all week for Harry to come up with some grand proposal about how they were going to resolve, or at least _comprehend_, their current situation. But when Friday came about, and no answer was in sight, Hermione decided it was time to do the investigation herself. And she knew undoubtedly where to start. Somewhere in the back of her head she recalled a quip made by Ron regarding her tendency to run to the library when emergency arose. No matter how odious his remark was, it was indeed apposite.

She had woken this morning with a throbbing headache. Snippets of her bizarre dream were flitting through her head, but she couldn't piece them together. Even after laying in bed for an hour this morning, completely frustrated with her poor memory, Hermione hadn't been able to make sense of her dreams. It had occurred to her that dreams were not meant to make sense, but it bothered her all the same. Mostly the strange and loud clicking noise that occurred right before she awoke...Hermione needed to change her clock. It was clearly too loud.

She quickly walked up the large staircase ahead of her turning around every so often like a wanted felon. The school had let in her effortlessly; no protection had kept her out, so it wasn't as though she were trespassing. It just felt peculiar to have nobody know she was here. Hermione turned left at the top of the staircase and began to climb the next one.

"Bollocks" she gasped as her foot sank right through the seventh step. Hermione tugged violently, trying to make the stairs release her. "Let go!" she muttered in exasperation. With a sucking sound her leg flew up out of the step and Hermione slipped backwards, she grabbed the banister to stop herself from flying all the way down. Hermione took a moment to collect herself and seized another opportunity to make sure that nobody was lurking about.

Going forward again, she skipped the trick step. On the third floor Hermione halted by the portrait of Sir Archibald Winartiker to calculate her next move. Today there were five staircases all leading to different platforms. Usually there had been a specific pattern to the stair changes, but it was something that consistently needed to be noted, and Hermione no longer had any such knowledge.

"What do you reckon?" Hermione asked the portrait with a grimace.

"I reckon you should probably steer clear of that one on the left. It likes to move once you begin your climb. Sometimes it goes left and right for hours, always missing the platform. Absolutely barbaric, if you ask me" Winartiker said in his rolling voice, and particularly rolled _"r's"._ "Haven't seen you around for a while Miss Granger. Here to visit?" he asked with polite interest. Clearly he was not mystified by her sudden appearance after so long.

"Oh, yes" Hermione said distractedly, deciding to try the stair case second from the right.

"Pleasant seeing you" Winartiker called to her as Hermione quickly ran up the steps, not wanting the staircase to change its mind about position.

"Oh Merlin" she gasped reaching the door, the stairs seemed longer then they were before. But Hermione decided that was more her faulty memory, then the actual growing length of the stairs. It had been an incredibly long time since she'd had to do this every day. Hermione tickled the door gently underneath its brass handle, and it swung open easily enough. She hadn't thought as to whether anybody would be in the library when she arrived, but Hermione doubted it. During her Hogwarts years nobody had been so keen but her, and at seven in the morning, there wasn't anything urgent enough to wake these students. Exams still seemed far away for them, though within a week the panic was sure to arise. Perhaps even taking precedent over the arising panic of Voldemort's attacks.

She walked straight down to the end of the hall ignoring a whistling portrait and opened the large rosewood doors leading to her haven. Hermione inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of wood, paper, and musk. The long room was impeccably clean. The floors polished, books stacked, ladders at every four meters...

Hermione already knew in which section the book she required was, she did not need to check the directory, the book was most certainly on the second floor at the very back. Where it had sat since the last time she had looked at it, untouched by any other student. She climbed the familiar narrow wrought iron stairs on her right to the second level. Her heart was pounding loudly with every step. Hermione had once held this book before, a very long time ago, and it hadn't been happy to see her. At least this time she knew not to open it until she was alone, lest she should wake the whole school and Hogsmeade.

* * *

Draco sat agitatedly on his leather couch. He realized that his tea was cold since he had placed it on the table nearly an hour ago, but he made no move to pick up his mug. He was trying to think. And so he was, but not about the things which were most imperative at the moment. His mind moved back and forth over how much information he should reveal to Potter and the rest of them, how much of it was actually _information_, and what were baseless ideas he had concocted after hearing snippets of his father's conversations. Draco was neither a fool nor blind, just far more silent than he had been in his school days. He had learned to keep shut and bide his time for the correct moments. So what was he to do now? Was this the correct moment? He knew more than Potter knew, and certainly knew more than Granger who he had been told to lie to, quite viciously. For _told_ was too loose a word, threatened was more accurate.

_"I'll rip out your gizzard and make you eat it" _was the exact phrase Ginerva had used. Draco was unsure what his 'gizzard' was. But he preferred it to remain where it had been all these years before. He was unsure if he could live without a gizzard.

It had been a massacre at the airport. People, muggles and magical, had been dropping all over the place. Nobody without a wand had survived at that departure terminal. Some of those wizards and witches had disappeared alongside the deatheaters. Poof, gone. Wood included. And after everything had stopped, he was left standing, holding Granger under the armpits and exchanging questioning glances with Potter.

Draco had known it would occur. Well, not exactly _known_ that _it_ would happen, but had suspected. His father had been especially friendly towards him as of late, and had really pushed that business trip upon him, saying it would prepare him for the real workforce. Draco had suspected that whatever was going to happen would occur when he was there. His father wanted him out of the picture. And he would have killed him himself if it hadn't looked exceptionally suspicious, especially to his mother. Draco felt increasingly apprehensive by the day. This new plan Voldemort was hatching terrified him, even though he had seen just as bad and worse. A dead army wasn't exactly original; Voldemort had used inferi in the first wizarding war, and his armies had wiped out many muggles and wizards. It wasn't ridiculous for him to recreate a scenario that worked in his favour once before, but to strengthen it this time around as well. The cozy world they had almost gotten used to again was crumbling. They were all foolish, himself included, to have even relaxed for a single moment.

So how much to share? At this point it seemed like everything would have been the correct choice. Just tell Potter everything he thought he knew, and then let lot them handle it. He would hole up in his flat and wait out the whole thing.

He laughed at his own stupidity. No such thing would ever happen. Draco was not gutless enough as he desired to be. Eventually his 'better self' would take over, and Draco would find himself doing inexplicable things altruistically. The first few times this had began to occur, he seriously thought he was ill. Then he realized he wasn't as appalling of a person as he tried to be. Or _rather_, Draco realized that he didn't exactly see a residence for himself in Voldemort's domain. Draco would unquestionably be killed by his own colleagues within the week. Due to this consciousness, a few weeks later and an oath with the order he was Draco Malfoy the blood-traitor. He would tell Potter everything later today, when they met at the Weasley's _cottage_.

He hardly knew how much Potter trusted him, possibly not even at all. And Malfoy neither blamed him, nor exactly cared. He didn't fancy Potter in the least, even if they fought on the same side, he still disliked him greatly. Malfoy could recall one of the longer conversations they had had back in their Hogwarts days where he had warned Potter for the last time what it would be like on the white hat side of the fence. The side where he had become a life member.

"I warned you not to pick the losing side, I should have taken my own advice" Malfoy muttered to himself "the real winners are the dead".

* * *

Hermione walked quick circles around her coffee table. She was on a high, or was about to have a coronary. What she had done was wrong, how had she even managed to get the book off the grounds? She had pilfered a library book. NO! She had borrowed it; Hermione would return it the moment she was done. She sat herself down hard on the kitchen stool.

The black cover of the book had a very sickening texture, like that of dry human skin. Hermione pretended she didn't know that this was probably true. Anything in the restricted section tended to be grotesque in an unnerving way.

Last time Hermione had opened this book it had been accidental, and the book had emitted a terrifying wail. "If you scream at me, I'll drop you real hard" Hermione muttered to it. She felt the cover shiver in her hands. Hermione had shivered herself. She opened the book slowly, it didn't scream, but wailed softly.

"Better" Hermione frowned. She didn't particularly want to flip through the book. It had inexplicably uncivilized contents, but there was no other way to find what she was looking for. So with revulsion, Hermione began to read, page-by-page, skipping those she was certain contained no answers.

Hermione caught snippets of resurrection here and there, though they were short references, and some to do with the currently useless ring in Harry's possession. But she couldn't find what she was looking for. "Can't you just find it for me?" she asked the book impatiently. The pages began to turn; Hermione pulled her hands back into her lap and watched the book leaf lazily.

Finally, it came to a stop. On the left page, there was a gruesome picture of a twisted creature, made of bones and thin dried skin; it's sockets burning bright. On the right, only a single paragraph.

_"Inferi are creatures with no soul, intelligence or memory raised from the remains of those who have died, using a branch of dark magic call necromancy. Inferi can be created from wizards or muggles, nothing is known about the resulting creature due to this difference. Traditionally these creatures have been used to fight wizarding wars. Though on occasion people have invoked necromancy for personal purposes. There is no concrete evidence about the true nature of inferi, but it is commonly accepted that they have no free will, and are mere puppets of their maker. The physical nature of inferi varies, as they resemble the living person who they were before, but eventually all inferi decompose into the same shape. It is important to note that inferi rage is not associated with their intelligence or free will, and if provoked they can turn on their creator or others in the vicinity, especially if the wizard creating them does not have the sustaining magic to control inferi. With regards to the inquiry of how to create inferi, there have been many speculations on the matter, but only those who have raised inferi before know the true method. Many wizards venture to claim that all one needs is a dead body, and pure will to raise the dead. It is also important to note, that when raising the dead, this type of magic can affect the stability of the wizards soul and magical ability. There is not much verification about how raising the dead affects wizards, but there have been cases of madness or death occurring due to this strong and unstable magic." _

And below, in small block print was written…

"_We, the writers apologize for our scant section on inferi, but this magic is not accessible even to us, and so we cannot provide you with a full characterization of this fascinating magic. We also strongly advise you not to attempt this unless you are a particularly skilled wizard, or else you may find yourself dying at the hands of your creation."_

"Not accessible? Even to the writer of this book?" Hermione trilled in disbelief. "Still…" she muttered reading over the paragraph again.

"_Many wizards venture to claim that all one needs is a dead body, and pure will to raise the dead"_

Pure will…Hermione knew that this wasn't all they meant to say. Wicked determination, malicious desires; a soulless evil being could be the only person to create an inferi. Hermione could muster as much _will_ as she wanted, but unless she desired hate and death towards others she would never successfully be able to raise the dead. She could not fathom the enormity of hatred Voldemort needed to muster entire armies of these creatures. It was frightening what yearning could do. These creatures were nothing but puppets, no soul, no intelligence, no memory, nothing human left in them. It was a complete perversion of nature, but so was Voldemort, it wasn't exactly above him.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the door twice and let herself in. There was no point in waiting for an answer, she needn't have even knocked, but that was simple habit. She had left the book at home, not wanting to cause more panic at the moment. Which she was sure the content of the book would induce, a book that before her, only Voldemort had likely read. The Weasley house appeared empty. "Ginny? Mrs. Weasley?" she called out. Hermione kicked off her shoes and walked through kitchen. There was nobody in the sitting room. She went back to the kitchen, "Hello?" she called up the staircase. Nobody replied. Hermione turned around on the spot frowning, where was everyone? As she set her bag down on the kitchen counter something caught her attention from the corner of her eye, Hermione turned to peer out the window facing the yard out back. She could see Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Malfoy standing quite far out in the field, all of their arms crossed and she assumed unhappy faces. Hermione suddenly felt out of place. Normally she would rush outside and join them, but she felt unwelcome at the moment, as if the discussion they were having was exclusive, why else would they have been outside? And all here before her as well… Hermione walked back to the sitting room and seated herself on the couch, more remote and despondent than before. What were they discussing? And why had her automatic response been to stay away when she could have just as easily joined them?

The back door swung open, and someone turned on the tap.

Hermione remained firmly seated, refusing to be the first one to break the silence.

"Merlin, Granger!" Malfoy exhaled as he rounded the corner; glass in hand. "Make yourself known, practically wet myself. And I almost broke Mrs. Weasley's fine china"

"I'm here" Hermione frowned coldly.

"Er, yes" he mumbled sitting down furthest from her in an armchair "The others will be in shortly".

Hermione frowned at him. She wanted him to say more. She wanted him to say 'oh Granger, you just missed it, we were discussing so and so' but instead he remained silent. Only proving her suspicions that she had been uninvited to their party. Malfoy avoided her gaze fervently. His eye remained fixed on the fireplace, as though he expected someone to show up any moment.

How she missed Oliver. These rampant thoughts startled her as well. It seemed in a second her mind would turn fully around and focus on him. Without Oliver though, Hermione was beginning to feel useless and unwanted. Oliver had always made her feel important, he had never excluded her from anything…without him she felt invisible. Nobody cared where she went, what she did, what she really thought. Hermione had lived it before, but it hadn't bothered her when she hadn't known differently. Only having been alone, how could she have known the beauty of having somebody beside her? Her eyes burned; Hermione turned away and looked at the pictures on the mantle, composing herself quickly.

"Have you heard from Wood?" Malfoy asked tersely, doing a poor job of casual conversation.

Hermione bit her lip, uncertain of what to say to him. She had no reason to lie, but still, she didn't want Malfoy to know that Oliver hadn't replied to her yet. Another thought panged loudly through her head, Oliver… "Uhh…"she moaned, her eyebrows furrowing and eyes blinking furiously.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll get back to you as soon as everything is arranged in America. They probably aren't safe yet," Malfoy said quickly, before Hermione could even defend herself.

"When will that be?" she asked curtly, her usually sharp voice wavering.

"I don't know," he admitted wringing his hands. "I'm sure everything will be okay. Don't stress yourself too much. Wood's a big boy…he'll take care of himself"

It took all the strength she had not to collapse and cry right there. She was either being poorly consoled, or completely silenced by Malfoy. It was clear that he didn't want her to make a big deal out of this, but he didn't understand. He didn't even understand that this talk about Oliver wasn't helping in the least. Hermione was scared and worried about what was going on, and her fiancé was across the ocean, in danger himself. Hermione felt the tears roll down her cheeks, she couldn't stop them, and she began to weep. Hermione placed her head in her hands, she was crying, but she wanted to laugh in embarrassment. These moments always came at the most ridiculous times. She could practically hear Malfoy panicking.

She felt him pry her hands off her face and push a handkerchief in them. Hermione looked at the spotted blue and white cloth, and felt very silly suddenly. "Sorry" she muttered thickly.

"Why are you like that?" he asked with a sigh, "You've got to hold yourself together Granger. I know he's your boyfriend, but life goes onward on the side of the ocean too. Keep your head straight. I just don't know how you can go on like this, worrying about him," he asked gloomily.

"You've got to love somebody to know" Hermione frowned sadly wiping her eyes with the handkerchief.

"Yeah, I suppose you would" Malfoy conceded sadly. "Don't be rude about it though, parading your love, not all of us are so lucky" he frowned.

Hermione laughed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend your love life"

"Well you did. I'm deeply offended, no need to remind me that nobody loves me," he said in mock anger.

"I'm sure your mother loves you" Hermione replied quickly, not wanting to truly insult him.

"Yeah, thanks" he laughed "but she might be the only one" Malfoy added earnestly.

"Don't be like that. You'll find a nice girl," Hermione said sincerely. It was absurd how only a minute ago he had been consoling her, and now she was returning the favour. Though, she supposed this was his plan to take her mind off the things that worried her. It had worked well. Hermione preferred to dwell in someone else's problems rather than in her own.

"Maybe, but now's not the time for new romantic adventures. Not with everything going on" Malfoy grimaced, leaning back on the couch.

"Now's the perfect time!" Hermione said vigorously. "When everything is falling to pieces, that's the best time to look for love. It gives you hope, inspiration, and a desire to change the current state of the world! Don't think in such a depressing way," she pleaded with him. Or perhaps she was pleading with herself, and the pessimism she was fighting.

"You're too much of a romantic. Life isn't _War and Peace_, or _Sense and Sensibility_. Not everybody ends up married and happy. In this life, people die, and people are lonely" Malfoy muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Hermione didn't reply, she had nothing to say against his statement. Life was not a romantic novel, people did die alone and in pain, families were torn apart, and there weren't always happy endings, no matter how much people suffered. She knew that already, but she didn't need to be constantly reminded of it. In perfect timing, the back door swung open again, and the other three entered the house.

"Hey 'Mione!" Ron said overly enthusiastically, throwing himself down on the couch beside her. It was clear to Hermione how phony he was acting.

"Hello" Hermione replied shortly.

"So, the golden trio plus ones are back in action" Malfoy said straightening up as Harry and Ginny entered the sitting room.

"Plus ones?" Ron questioned, "Pfft. And just who's plus one are you supposed to be?"

"Well, I'm Grangers, as she invited me here. I'm sorry to have confused you, but Weasley, you don't have one" Malfoy smiled coolly.

"Har har" Ron muttered rolling his eyes.

"Listen," Harry said in the same serious tone he reserved for his 'discouraging' discussions. Hermione stiffened, feeling anxious already. Any speech Harry began with 'listen' was never reassuring.

"Voldemort is back at full capacities. He's regained his strength, and he's showing it to us. No more ignoring the facts. We're on full alert. But that's all for now. There isn't anything we, or the order, can do until he makes his next move" Harry sighed. "Voldemort is slowly biding his time, building his army, using the same tactic as always. The one that has worked for him before. He's trying to frighten everyone, divide people, confuse them, make them doubt one another before he begins to pick them apart, one by one. It's likely that he's using the bodies of wizards recently deceased as his puppets. I'm not sure how that will work for him; seeing as any inferi I've come across all look the same. Bony masses, with wry leathery flesh…perhaps he can transfigure them, but even so, it would be obvious to anyone looking that it isn't human…"

_Wrong, and wrong_…It was probably possible to transfigure an animated inferi. Hermione knew this much. But even if Voldemort could do a basic transfiguration, he would never be able to change the creature so well that it should look alive, especially one from a long deceased person. But what Harry didn't seem to realize, as all the inferi he saw had been dead for years, centuries even…was that inferi decomposed naturally. If you created one from a fresh body, you would have a fresh corpse, looking like the live person walking around. A fresh corpse was easier to transfigure or glamour lightly, than an inferi made from an already decomposed body.

"Be careful of anyone you haven't seen recently. And be wary of people who are acting strangely, or who look unlike themselves. Don't allow your guard to drop. Just because Voldemort is powerful doesn't mean he's going to go for the obvious attack. It's less work for him if he can remove us silently. Just be careful. _Especially_ of people you haven't seen for a while" Harry repeated.

"Of course" Hermione replied. She wasn't sure she wanted to share her knowledge of inferi just yet. If Harry was distrusting everyone then that was just as good as what she could tell him. Hermione's only worry was that she didn't know how much time _pure will_ took to be in effect. Did each inferi take Voldemort a day? Was that the limit before someone became a suspicious person? Or could he create one in a matter of minutes? What about someone you saw in the morning, and then later in the day? Was it logical to act so distrustfully of others in these circumstances? Anything Hermione said now would only fuel Harry's paranoia, and not actually help the situation. She shut her mouth tightly.

"The five of us are the only ones who know about what happened at the academy, we can't prove it to anybody else yet. But we should watch each other's backs. Constantly check on each other and make sure that nothing strange occurs…"

"And just how are we to do that Potter when we have to go on with our current lives? Others would become more suspicious of us if we were to begin acting strangely. It hardly makes sense to hole up in our cupboards from now on" Malfoy sneered.

"Well, since you brought it up…" Ginny began uncertainly, looking Harry.

"Yes?" Malfoy said raising his brows.

"Ron and I all live at the Burrow…it has specific charms that detect certain spells and…it's a safe place to be…and Harry is moving in for now…" she said, drifting off towards the end.

Malfoy looked at her incredulously. "I respect you Ginerva, certainly. But there is no way in bloody hell I am housing in with you lot here!"

"Well, no, of course not! There isn't enough room here as it is! Especially if you were to live here. I'm just suggesting that rooming together is a good idea for now!" she said defensively.

"Rooming…together?" Hermione stuttered, "Am I invited to the Burrow?"

"Don't be daft Granger. What Ginerva means to say is that you and I should look into cohabiting" Malfoy muttered "Not to say this is a completely imprudent idea Potter, but what makes you think this is so brilliant? It's just as possible that one of us could fall to the same fate as any of the other millions of people out there".

"Well, if we set up the spells and enchantments on Hermione's flat at least you two can monitor each other. You don't understand Malfoy that we're the only ones in the order right now who are fully aware of what's occurring. If we fall to the same fate, then nobody will know what's happening. And Voldemort will have the way cleanly paved to victory" Harry frowned.

"It's just that the way it is now…it's hard to get anything across to those in the order. They don't seem to take us very seriously" Ginny frowned "I think they still find us foolish and green, despite everything we've accomplished. Especially Harry"

"So we're battling against those we're supposed to trust?" Malfoy asked.

"Not battling, but keeping our heads above water If we put all our eggs in one basket…well, whatever" Ron muttered.

"So you think if we tell them this theory, they'll either find us to be mad. Or they'll do something rash?" Malfoy grimaced.

"Approximately" Ginny nodded.

"Fine" Hermione shrugged "Let's do it that way. But for how long Harry? What if Voldemort never makes and obvious move? What if he's already killed more people for his dead army and we don't know? How long can we keep a low profile before we have to act? Are we playing it by ear?"

"It seems to me that anything Potter comes up with is mostly improvisational" Malfoy smirked.

"Meeting adjourned" Ginny said quickly standing between Harry and Malfoy to dispel the tension "We'll just take it slow. Wait for Voldemort to make the next move".

* * *

Hermione opened her door and dropped her bag on the hardwood floor with a loud thump, her keys went into the clay ashtray on the side table by the door. "Welcome" she muttered unenthusiastically as Malfoy followed her in.

"I've been here before Granger, remember?" he smiled wryly closing the door behind him.

"Sure" she shrugged. Hermione walked towards the kitchen desperate for a nice strong cup of tea. Out of the corner of her eye, her _borrowed_ book stopped her in her tracks. Hermione rushed over to the counter before Malfoy could see. She grabbed the book and placed it in the cupboard underneath, next to the chopping board. She would need to move it later.

"What enchantments are we supposed to put up?" Malfoy asked looking around, not paying attention to her small panic attack in the least.

"An anti-concealment charm, and an something to reserve transfiguration and glamour modifications, and I suppose something to alert us to dark magic-"

"-I don't understand" Malfoy cut in "How inferi can even exist…isn't that against Gamp's principal laws? I mean, I'm not even sure what these things are. And I've lived with deatheaters"

Hermione sighed in annoyance. "Yes, but Gamp's principal law means to state that I cannot Aveda you right now, and then bring you back to life as you were before. It does not mean to say you cannot reanimate the body"

"So inferi have absolutely none of their previous human traits? They're just the flesh incarnation" he inquired further.

"Aside from appearance, no other traits"

"Appearance?"

"What?" Hermione said startled.

"YOU said that inferi have the same appearance as they did when alive…but Potter described them differently. Which is it?"

He was too quick for Hermione, she had no retort ready. "Right, sorry, my mistake" she muttered busying herself with the kettle, hoping he wouldn't ask again. He said nothing.

Luckily Malfoy seemed to have dropped the topic, though she did not know for how long. Something else seemed to have preoccupied him; he was staring out her living room window, his hands on his hips. He walked over and opened the terrace door, from somewhere nearby a small grey owl flew towards him, dropping a piece of rolled parchment in his hand and flying back out into the night.

"You got an owl Granger" he mused walking over to her and placing it on the counter "Seemed as though the owl was waiting for you to come home".

Hermione put the kettle down on the burner and took the rolled parchment. With trembling hands she unfurled it, nervousness overtook her. Was this was she had been waiting for?

"_How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!  
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.  
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!  
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd"_

_-Alexander Pope_

Hermione read it twice; them crumpled the paper up and quickly threw it in the broiler. Disappointment overtook her.

"What was it?" Malfoy asked curiously.

"Nothing" Hermione said softly.

* * *

A/N2: Sorry it took so long to get this updated. I'm going to update all the fics this week, hopefully by Friday. Thank you for reading, and please comment!


	6. Attention

**Chapter Six: Attention**

**A/N:** I don't own Harry Potter. I saw the movie yesterday, and it was brilliant. The slight change with the Neville plot ticked me off a little, but it was still amazing. And I'm glad they fixed the epilogue bit too. Anywho, this is my last update before my vacation. Probably won't be any more for a month. Thanks for reading, and please review!

* * *

She could hear him.

Every time he turned over on the couch, every time he scratched, coughed, sniffled, Hermione could hear it all too clear. She sighed and turned over onto her other side. It felt weird to have another person here with her in the flat. She was used to Oliver sleeping next to her, but she wasn't sure about the idea of another man sleeping in the sitting room.

It wasn't that she considered Malfoy…Draco, a _man _man. She wasn't worried he would do anything. But it felt funny all the same. And not in an all too bad way. It was almost a little nice to know that there was somebody outside her door should she need something, even if she didn't ask for anything. He coughed again. Was he getting sick, or was he just an annoying sleeper? At least he didn't snore; Hermione wouldn't have been able to bear it if it was the case.

Why couldn't she fall asleep again? The clock had struck three in the morning only moments ago, and she was wide-awake. So if Draco's sleeping habits didn't really bother her, why couldn't she fall back asleep? What was it that was holding her back, clinging to her mind relentlessly? 'Click, click, click…snap' her mind rang. The dream had occurred to her again. She and Oliver in the airport, he put the ring on her finger, his kissed her, and the clicking began. It became louder and louder, but only Hermione could hear it, nobody else looked for it at all. Then everyone evaporated, like an atomic bomb, a heat wave hit Hermione's dream and everyone disappeared.

Hermione sat up in bed with a sigh. At least tomorrow was Sunday. No school to worry about just yet. She wasn't sure how she would manage school and staying alive if Voldemort decided to make an obvious comeback. It hadn't worked for them last time, having taken a full year off for their search of horcruxes. And a far load of good that had done them. Destroyed the necklace, the book, diadem, cup, ring, and the stupid snake. Even shot Voldemort with a killing curse. But there he was, still walking around in one piece, as though nothing had occurred. Somewhere their theory had fallen through; clearly there were more than six horcruxes he had hidden. And if he had discovered that they had damaged the others, then he had probably made more.

She had wondered about it for weeks afterwards, how had they failed? What had they missed? Why hadn't Voldemort died completely? Sure, they had subdued him, completely weakened him, but he had regained strength. And very quickly thanks to his many followers. And now, she, Harry, and Ron were back at square one. Fighting a losing battle. Fighting against the thing the phrase 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' defines.

Outside, a strong wind blew, thrashing the tree branches, and causing the small spring flowers to fall. If things were different, Hermione would have considered this weather phenomenon natural. But things weren't different, and everything came back to the evil force waiting on the other side of the door. Something was happening nearby, causing the weather to change so suddenly. Hermione slipped out of bed and walked to the terrace doors. She pulled back the glass door and stepped outside.

"Oh" she gasped as the violent wind whipped around her. Hermione grabbed the railing and looked out across her neighborhood. The wind was bizarre, changing directions very quickly; the sky was black…

"DRACO!" she shrieked gripping the railing with all her strength.

"DRACO!" Hermione yelled piercingly running back into the house, through her room, and throwing open the door.

Draco was on the floor, shock all over his face. He was rubbing his head, having clearly had a hard fall "What-"

Hermione grabbed him and pulled him up. "Outside…there's…"

He looked at her imperturbably "outside?" He pushed her aside, walking through her room and outdoors. Hermione followed him shakily, clutching to the front of her shirt with a vice grip. Her worst nightmares were beginning to become true. She had never imagined this would be happening now…so soon, and while they were all so defenseless.

"Merlin" Draco whispered rubbing his eyes in frustration. He leaned on the railing tiredly, hanging his head.

"I don't…who's…"

The dark mark hung in the sky like a giant disgusting searchlight beam. The green looked fluorescent against the blackness of the sky, it bore into Hermione's eyes, she couldn't even look away from it.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked in horror.

"Nothing" Draco said forlornly "What can we do? Running over there may only get us killed…and whoever lives under the mark, is likely dead by now. We can't help them"

"Then-"

"Let's go back in, out of easy range. I need to call Potter right away"

He placed his hand on Hermione's back, and gently but firmly steered her into the house, closing the sliding door firmly behind them.

"Oh… I wonder who lived there," Hermione whispered sitting down on the messy couch. She pulled her fingers through her hair nervously. She was beginning to feel sick, her stomach turning, and her mind reeling over the suddenness of the attack. She had grown accustom to the silence and peace over the last few months. Hermione had forgotten how gut-wrenching living in a world with Voldemort really was.

Draco crouched down by her fireplace, grabbing a bit of green powder from the jar on the hearth. "Weasley residence" he muttered throwing the powder into the flames. They turned green and cool. Hermione walked over and sat down next to him, anxiously.

A few moments later Ginny's face appeared in the fire, "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily "Merlin that ring is loud. TURN IT OFF RON!" she screamed looking behind her. Another head appeared next to hers, Harry.

"Are you alright?" he asked tensely, looking at the two of them, and then downward, probably at his watch.

"Potter, there's a dark mark floating in the sky over here. Not even a hundred meters away from us. Are we going to chalk it down to coincidence, or should we be worried?" Draco scowled, his brow furrowing.

"Blimey" Ron gasped, squeezing in next to Ginny "Can you tell whose house it is?"

"No, there's too many houses in the area, it's impossible to even guess. And I don't even know many of the people in the neighborhood" Hermione exhaled loudly, "But…I'm certain that I'm the only witch in the area. Whoever was killed, they were probably a muggle"

"You think?" Draco said in surprise, his eyes widening "A muggle?"

"I'm almost certain, I would have known if there was another witch or wizard living around here. The nearest magical neighbor I have is Ezmeralda Flitwick, and she's north of here, not south" Hermione explained shaking her head in disbelief.

"Why attack a muggle household," Harry pondered pursing his lips, "Could they have been a threat?"

"Reckon it was more like a mistake. I'm willing to bet the deatheaters were aiming for Granger here, but made a wrong turn. No other reason for them to be in the area" Draco said assertively "If, what Hermione says is true about the wizarding population here. And it's only one home. Not a random attack at all".

"Hermione? Why would they be looking to get Moine?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Could be a million reasons, couldn't it? Don't be an idiot Ron" Ginny replied, agitation colouring her voice, "I mean, the real question is 'why not' isn't it? Why haven't the deatheaters made a move sooner if they've been capable? Lucky you have some strong enchantments" she added in relief.

"Can they find us?" Draco asked worriedly, searching Hermione's face. He himself had turned a very ashy colour, and Hermione wondered if he was going to be able to remain upright.

"No" Hermione said as confidently as she could, trying to dispel some of the tension. "You must be invited to my home in order for it to be visible to you"

"Explains why I walked past your house for a full year before realizing you lived there" Draco mused.

"Yes, so unless I, or anybody else who's visited invites the deatheaters in, there's no way they'll find us" Hermione said settling the matter.

"They'll just go about killing the whole neighborhood, until they find you" Harry grimaced.

"ARTHUR!"

Hermione and Draco jumped, as did the three faces in the fireplace. "Mum, what's wrong?" Ron cried, his face disappearing from the flames. Ginny disappeared quickly after.

"GET HERE, NOW!" Harry demanded before his face flickered away too.

Hermione frowned at Draco, and he frowned back.

"Yes, it's probably exactly what you're thinking" he groaned standing up. "Let's get a move on then"

* * *

"Oh, goodness" Hermione murmured in fear and awe. "There's so many…I don't think I've ever seen so many"

She and Draco moved under their black cloaks across the barely field towards the Burrow. From all directions, dark marks glowed in the night sky. Some were quite far away, others, much too close for comfort. Luckily, there didn't appear to be one over the burrow.

Hermione pushed open the gate and she and Draco entered the protective barrier around the Burrow. The gate swung shut behind them. "Those poor people, there's more wizards and witches here than muggles, this was absolutely deliberate" Hermione said angrily.

"And none of them were expecting it" Draco added sadly. He looked much smaller to Hermione, as though he had shrunk in the last half-hour. He also looked very ill. Hermione wondered if she looked the same.

"Because the order kept it all too quiet, people had no idea how strong the threat was. What on earth could they say now to make it better? Nobody will trust them, or us after this" she worried.

"Still, after everything we've lived through, you'd think people would have remained more cautious, kept some stronger magic around their homes" Draco said thoughtfully.

"People are all too willing to accept good news, less likely to dwell on the bad," Hermione agreed stepping over a muddy puddle in the lane.

"And, now they're all the more dead for it" Draco added.

The whole house was awake, all the lights on, the front door thrown open haphazardly. Hermione knocked on the frame and entered, "Ron, Harry?" she called kicking off her shoes and entering.

"Oh, Hermione! It's all over the news!" Ginny said running out of the kitchen and grabbing Hermione's hand. "Come on"

Draco shut the door behind him and followed Hermione and Ginny into the kitchen. Bill Weasley squeezed past him in the hall, his face strained, and wand in hand. "What's going on?" Draco asked.

In the kitchen only Ron, Harry, and George were sitting, steaming mugs in front of their glum pallid faces. Mrs. Weasley was busing herself around the kitchen, and constantly fiddling with the dials on her radio settled on a large pot.

"Your call woke us all, lucky actually. Mum noticed the first mark only a few minutes later. Since then, well, in the next twenty minutes they multiplied" George said despondently.

"Any clues as to what's actually happening?" Draco asked sitting himself down next to George. Hermione sat down next to Harry, also dying with curiosity.

"Well, it's them deatheaters it is" Mrs. Weasley chimed in nervously, placing a mug in front of Hermione and one in front of Draco. "What else could it be? Just don't understand why tonight, why now? What could have caused them to…the poor Thomas family" she whispered tearfully turning away from them.

"Something's tipped them," Harry said holding onto his mug "Something happened tonight, and it caused them to move into action. I can't fathom what would have made them take such a huge leap. After all of our hypothesizing that Voldemort wouldn't make such a rash move…it happened after all" Harry looked terrified, and unprepared. And Harry hated feeling unprepared for anything, it killed all of his confidence.

"It's too easy for them. All of these defenseless people…"Ginny said sitting by Harry, and placing her hand on his arm.

"Dad's gone to the ministry to see what the next move is. Probably total pandemonium over there now. Can you imagine, this early in the morning? Dad was called only minutes after we saw the first one here" Ron intercepted.

"People have since been alerting the ministry consistently" Mrs. Weasley said wiping her hands on her apron, "I'm keeping track on the radio, but the sighting's aren't slowing down…"

'_In Kentshire, on Mulberry Lane, five dark marks in the sky. Little Whinging, twenty-five marks are currently in the sky…'_

"That's more than before" George gasped, staring at the radio in disbelief, and rubbing the place where his ear used to be.

"What's worse, we can't even remove the marks," Ginny said leaning towards Hermione, "It's direct ministry orders. Not until every single marked house has been investigated. It could take weeks"

"But the marks are only causing more panic" Hermione replied, "It's not even possible that all of the marked houses mean that the people inside are dead… considering how many marks there are, it would mean a single deatheater to every household. If there was more than one abled witch or wizard living there, the bloody bastard would be dead before his second victim"

"Doesn't matter, and it doesn't prove that these people aren't dead" Ginny disagreed.

"Either way, the ministry won't be able to round up all of its employees for at least another few hours. And they need to have a strategy for going about to these homes; they can't run in. Could be dangerous" Draco said, lower the mood in the kitchen even further.

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms on the table, "That means by the time Aurors even reach a house, the people who weren't dead before could become so in the meantime"

"Precisely" Harry said, slamming the table with his hand causing Ginny and Mrs. Weasley to jump "its all the same bloody shit. Voldemort is causing confusion, panic, he's disorienting people!"

"If it's a distraction…then what is Voldemort doing right now? Where is his attention turned?" Draco asked looking around the table.

Nobody answered him.


	7. Spurious

**Chapter Seven: Spurious**

**A/N:** I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione handed Mrs. Weasley the steaming mug. She had wanted to spare Mrs. Weasley's fine china from their flighty responses, and so they were drinking their tea out of the baby mugs Mrs. Weasley had kept from her children's early days. Hermione sat down next to Ginny on the loveseat and nervously glanced at Mrs. Weasley's clock. Everyone was pointed at Peril…

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny sighed softly, her face slack and pale. Hermione was certain she had been sick earlier.

"I'm thinking…that it just doesn't make sense"

"Not much does" Ginny agreed rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Yes, but I mean…it doesn't make sense that the deatheaters would cause such…unstructured panic. I think that means there's something that we're missing"

"You think they're tricking us."

"We've already been tricked, haven't we?" Hermione grimaced.

"Innit though" Ginny muttered.

"I just mean that they're doubly deceiving us. We know we've been duped, but not it the way we think we have"

"I'm sure you have a very well thought out theory. I'm not certain I want to hear it. It'll probably make this all harder" Ginny frowned, her eyes still glued to the clock.

"To be honest, I'm not sure I want to articulate it. It's positively absurd, but…absurd enough to be impeccably probable"

Ginny glanced abruptly at Mrs. Weasley, who looked as comatose as though she had been kissed by a dementor. Her face went from glum, to interest, to worried. Hermione could tell Ginny was fighting a losing battle with her curiosity.

"Let's take this into the kitchen," she suggested standing. Mrs. Weasley's mug was still full in her hands.

Hermione drew the shades close over the sink, she did not want to see the view outside. Her stomach was twisted in knots as it was fretting over all the boys, she did not need the visual aid.

"Let's have then," Ginny said leaning on the counter, her hands crossing over her stomach. Hermione's brows furrowed.

"Well?"

"Right" Hermione began, snapping back "all of the houses the ministry has been to so far have muggles, most alive though injured…some dead inside"

"Yes" Ginny agreed.

"Where are the witches and wizards?"

"I…sorry. I don't think I understand" Ginny frowned shaking her head.

"Don't you? All of those houses attacked. And not a single magical causality?" Hermione queried. Her brain was moving faster than her mouth; Hermione thought she would explode if Ginny did not catch up.

"Fine. What then? Where'd they all go?" her friend asked in perplexity and exasperation bordering on anger.

"Well, they're dead Ginny"

Ginny paled, gripping the counter behind her. "I'm not following"

"Oh come on, be bothered! The unmarked homes, has anybody checked them?"

"Of course not! Why would-"

"Precisely. Why would you check an unmarked home, especially when there are thousands with dark marks floating above?"

"Blimey"

* * *

"Mental, mental, mental!" Ginny hissed shuffling after Hermione to the door.

"I'm just going to make sure Ginny, don't fret so much. I am armed" Hermione said patting her pocket.

"You can't leave!" Ginny pleaded grabbing her arm, "Please Hermione, be reasonable, when Harry calls, we'll let him know. Don't go on your own" she glanced back at the fireplace expectantly, as if by some amazing stroke of luck Harry's face would appear and save her the hassling of stopping Hermione. However, no such kindness was granted.

"I'm sure they've emptied the hamlet" Hermione mollified pulling Ginny's fingers off her arm. Mrs. Weasley had fallen asleep in the chair, and Hermione wanted to make sure it stayed that way. She would never be allowed to leave the house if they were both grabbing at her.

"No you're not, you can't possibly know they're all gone. Hermione if you get yourself killed, I'll never forgive myself…and if you get back alive Harry will still kill me for letting you leave"

"Then make sure he doesn't find out", Hermione whispered pulling her cloak on "I'll be fine Ginny. Just stay here, look after your mum, and wait for somebody to get in touch with us. I won't be more than half an hour"

"Hermione, please?" Ginny besought miserably, grabbing her hand "It's so dodgy. More than you know"

"I just need to see. Don't panic," Hermione repeated with a smile. She slipped out of reach opened the door and left. Hermione pulled the door closed behind her and locked it magically. That would give her a few minutes to get far away enough before Ginny could grab her wand to unlock the door. She briskly began walking towards the cornfields.

She was mental, absolutely and positively mental, Ginny was right about that. No sane person would have considered this. Nevertheless, Hermione needed to see if her theory was correct, she needed to know what was happening. All of these bizarre occurrences were connected. It made no sense for the deatheaters to continually attack wizards, and then to randomly attack muggles. There was a strategy, and it was concise. Nothing was done arbitrarily or for amusement in a war of this proportion. They were too evenly tied now, and Voldemort could not afford any more losses than they could, because anything could tip the scales.

The corn glowed jade under the sky filled with dark marks. It made all of the shadows look that much more ominous; it made every noise that much louder. Hermione gripped her wand tightly in her hand, and kept her ears and eyes wide open. There was no second chance here, if she was caught unprepared, she was a stiff.

Ahead the corn was tapering, she was coming out onto the road. She cast an invisibility charm around herself and prayed it would hold. It was the only spell she was shaky with. Unsurprisingly since the only two people she knew who could successfully cast and maintain one were Voldemort and Dumbledore. Not that she was bragging, would not do her any good anyway if the charm bunged. Not everyone had an invisibility cloak to carry around.

She slipped down the muddy road into the hamlet. If she had to put a number on it, there were only about a hundred marks here. However, the land was flat and the sky was cloudless, dark marks from kilometers away in other villages were glaringly visible creating the petrifying effect of immensity. Most of the homes were still closed and untouched, and since the marks were not removed it was apparent the ministry had not sent anybody here yet.

Hermione stepped over a trampled fence, gazing at the first mark-less house. There was nothing special about the property from the outside, but it was certain to look differently from the inside and it was as good as any for a start. The whole street was a mess, footmarks all over the mud, grass and plants torn up, postboxes knocked over, and lamps shattered. If Hermione had not known the cause, she would have thought this was aftermath from War of the Worlds. She walked up the door, pressing her face against it and listening inside for any sign of visitors on the other side. There was nothing to be heard so Hermione turned the knob, it did not move, locked. "_Alohamora_" The lock clicked and the knob turned in her hand.

Quickly and silently Hermione slipped inside and shut the door behind her, not wanting anybody left in the hamlet to notice the mysterious door opening and shutting on its own. The sitting room was dark and empty; she would not be able to use any light until she was certain she was alone in the house, no matter how invisible she was, it would give her away. The kitchen was also empty, mugs in the sink and open jam on the counter. Nobody was on the bottom floor, and she didn't need magic to tell her that. There was no point for the attackers to conceal themselves; they had created more than enough of a distraction. Hermione's heart pounded deeper and harder with every step she took, she knew exactly what she was going to find, and the vindication wasn't as pleasing as she'd been hoping.

There was a shaft of light on the top floor coming from one of the rooms. Hermione stood on the landing, listening. Silence, but she had not been expecting anything else. Slowly she approached the room, and then she heard it. A small soft breathy noise, fast and shallow, on the verge of tears. "Oh no" she whispered entering the lit nursery.

Trying to ignore the destroyed surroundings and the bright substance splattered on the walls and carpet Hermione headed to the cot. She frowned down at the baby, "Pitiful"

Hermione picked up the child; he looked well under a year, small and open-eyed, but seemingly healthy. "You're so lucky, they just left you", she murmured rubbing the child's back "Not everyone else was as fortunate". She looked around the room with revulsion. They had been slaughtered right here, in the nursery, and their bodies were long gone. There was a small mural on the wall, pictures of the family. The woman and man smiled at her, the witch waving the baby's hand at the camera. Hermione removed the frame from the wall and slipped it into her cloak pocket.

"Time to go" she cooed to the baby, extending the charm over the child.

She was not about to go and check any of the other houses for casualties, not with the baby in tow. However, Hermione was certain that the scene was quite similar all down the street. Her arms were growing tired, but the uphill trek had just begun. Her mind was spinning and the baby had begun to whimper.

The deatheaters had probably killed and made away with thousands of magical bodies, likely to create another dead army. It boggled her how they had managed it, and how there had not been any other news of survivors. It meant that no attacked magical household had adult survivors. How could it be that nobody had lived?

Her mind raced back to that day at university. Somehow, the whole class had been put to sleep, and people had disappeared. It did not seem possible that anybody could cause such a spell of magnitude to cause a whole village to fall asleep… It made less sense than ever before.

"_Homenum Revelio_!"

Hermione gasped in surprise as her invisibility spell dissolved around her.

"I'm going to _kill_ you!"

"Wait!"

"How could you? So foolish, you must have gone stupid!"

She watched Harry stumbled down the path towards her, red in the face. A pale and worried looking Draco followed him close behind.

"What were you thinking?" Harry screamed.

"Potter, take it down a little. No need to alert the whole jurisdiction that we're here", Draco mumbled, then stared at her mouth gaping. "What, are you holding?"

"A baby" Hermione replied worriedly, her eyes glued to Harry's fuming face.

"Why…?"

"Because, his parents were killed due to the misinformation and idiocy of the ministry. While everyone was so busy looking at all the marked houses, nobody bothered to check the other ones. That's where the real causalities were" Hermione spat in annoyance, the baby began to cry in earnest.

Harry's face fell, he looked positively miserable. "I realized too late, we were at our tenth house already before I realize not a single magical house had been attacked. We lost the battle"

"Listen Potter, as much as I appreciate your tendency to guilt trip yourself, we should talk about this back at the burrow. I don't like being out here in the open" Draco muttered anxiously looking about.

"No, you're right" Harry sighed rubbing his chin, "lets head back quickly. Ginny is having kittens right now, not to mention Mrs. Weasley…"

They headed up the hill in silence. Each deep in their own thoughts, and collecting themselves for the honest talk they knew coming eventually. Hermione was nervous about it. There was that evil nagging voice in her head telling her Harry was full to the brim with bad news. If he had discovered the ministry misstep, then how had he made that discovery? What had he found out?

"And so…the kid's parents are for sure…?" Draco asked timidly as they entered the cornfield.

"Dead, and bodies gone" Hermione replied, asserting his suspicions.

"Merlin…it just gets worse" Harry groaned as they exited the corn. In front of the house Ginny and Mr. Weasley were standing with their arms crossed, taking to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Hermione tightened her clutch on the child for no particular reason other than instinct. Something felt funny about this scene.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried spotting her "Oh thank Merlin!"

Ginny rushed over to her, but Mrs. Weasley remained where she was, her face set in a deep frown.

"What…are you holding?"

"A baby" Hermione answered robotically, she handed the child to a baffled Ginny and marched over to Kingsley.

The conversation stopped immediately when she arrived. Hermione eyed Kingsley warily. Her hair was standing on end, her intuition screaming that something was very peculiar about this.

"Hello Hermione" he said politely, but…guardedly. He was refusing to invite her into the current conversation.

"I assume you won't be joining us then?" she asked knowingly.

"No, as I'm sure you understand, I have to get back to the ministry" he said sheepishly, his calm façade just unraveling slightly.

"Of course" Hermione said distrustfully. She was not sure herself why she felt uneasy about Kingsley, but her experiences told her she was being kept in the dark. This was greatly unappreciated.

She walked past him into the house, dropping her cloak over the umbrella crock, and heading straight to the kitchen. There was more to all of this than what she understood, and it was suddenly apparent that they were not all in the same boat. Hermione heard the door open as the rest of the crowd entered the burrow noisily.

"Hermione…"Ginny muttered walking into the kitchen. She came to stand by the sink next to Hermione and gazed sadly out at the sky through the window.

"Yes?" Hermione replied.

"What should we do about the baby?"

Realization stung her. She had forgotten about the kid, what were they to do. No point in taking the poor child to the ministry right now. The ministry was a metaphorical chicken without a head; an orphan was the last thing they wanted to worry about now. "We keep him until we find out who the next of kin is I suppose"

"Alright…but Hermione"

Hermione turned to face Ginny.

"Haven't you been wondering why your home wasn't attacked?" Ginny asked softly.

Yes, Hermione had been wondering, but she had not wanted to mention it with everything else going on. It was true she had particularly strong enchantments on her home, but so did many of the other wizarding homes attacked. So, why had she been overlooked? Not even an attempt on her life, they just passed over her.

"They probably couldn't find my flat with all the charms that I've put up" she smiled.

"Right, of course" Ginny added agreeing. However, Hermione could still see the uncertainty on her face. Ginny also knew more than she did, but Hermione knew she would never get it out of her. She just had to hope eventually the news would come around to her as well.

With a sigh she walked away from the window and out the door to the back yard. She needed to find an owl, there was a letter that needed sending.


End file.
